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kimpossibly · 1 year

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THE CHAIN -> e. roundtree PART ONE: drummers' curse

PAIRING: eddie roundtree x fem!reader WARNINGS: mentions of minor injuries (NOTE: some warnings for this story include MAJOR spoilers for this series down the line, so I'll put those beneath the cut. If you don't want to get the story spoiled, then just ignore it ― but I did want to provide the chance for you to get an idea of how the story will go later down the line if you have any sensitive topics you'd like to avoid. please prioritize your mental wellbeing!)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Apologies in advance for making Y/n the drummer and putting Warren on rhythmic guitar. I just loooooooove female drummers. Also can you tell that I love Karen and Camila? Because I love them with alllllll my heart and soul. Another sorry in advance because this one may break your heart a little ― it sure broke mine. NOTES ON THE WORK: I used the timeline from the book, mostly because I couldn't keep track of it in the show haha. I read the book twice before watching what episodes of the show were out, so the lines may blur between the two. For your convenience (and mine, tbh), I'll put the year all the characters were born underneath this note so you can reference it when you need to. I just couldn't keep track honestly. I think in the show they start the band when Graham is fourteen, but in the book he's around 18 when they add Warren on, so it's kind of confusing?? I decided to stick with the book because it was a more physical timeline. Anyways, enough talking, here's your guide! ― YEARS BORN (in order of age) Billy Dunne -> 1947 Camila Dunne -> 1949 Graham Dunne -> 1949 Warren Rhodes -> 1949 Eddie Roundtree -> 1949 Daisy Jones -> 1951 Y/n L/n -> 1951

WARNINGS (SPOILERS INCLUDED): reader has a terminal illness. Discussions about death and loss, depictions of grief, hospitals

It's no secret that the renowned 1970s band Daisy Jones & The Six went through its fair share of ups and downs. Until their inexplicable split on July 12, 1979, they were undeniably one of the biggest bands in the world. While a more detailed account of the band's history will be recounted in a more thorough transcript, this advanced edition will focus specifically on two of the band members: Eddie Roundtree and Y/n L/n. More specifically, it will focus on their individual and combined roles they played in the band's eventual downfall.

THE RISE OF THE SIX (1965 - 1972)

GRAHAM: Y/n grew up next door to us. She was a little younger, two years or so, so we never really gave her a second look. Until the day she wandered into our garage during band practice out of nowhere. She practically ripped the drum sticks out of Chuck's hand and just started...wailing on 'em. I mean, she could make your head spin. Here was this thirteen, fourteen year old girl next door, this kid, and she was the best fuckin' drummer we'd seen. I mean, in the neighborhood. She wasn't Mitch Mitchell, but she was the closest thing we had. And she was too good to be shoved in the back with a tambourine. But we couldn't just take Chuck's spot away and hand it over to the new girl.

CHUCK: I knew right then and there that they wanted to give my spot to the new girl. There was no doubt in my mind. And, you know what? I got it. This chick was good. Way too good. Did I feel threatened by her? Hell yeah, I did. And at the time I probably wanted to tell her to screw off, but now...now I get it.

EDDIE: She was good. Amazing, actually. Graham and I looked at each other and knew that she was something we'd be stupid to pass up on.

BILLY: When Chuck told us he wanted out, we were pissed, of course. We were heading off to open for Winters that week. It felt like things were going to look up, just like I always knew they would, and he was ditching. I know now that that wasn't really what it was ― he'd gotten into college, fan-fucking-tastic. It was a good opportunity for him, a sure thing. But right then it felt like a betrayal.

WARREN: So he ditched, and Billy just turned right to Eddie and said, "Go tell Y/n she's in." And he was just...terrified.

EDDIE: I said, "why me?" You know? It wasn't my band, it was Billy's. And here he was, ordering me to tell some new girl she was in. I was fifteen and could barely ask a waitress for ketchup. At the time, that was probably the last thing I wanted to do.

GRAHAM: He asked why it had to be him, and I told him the truth: he was the least intimidating. Billy, you know him. He had a tendency to get too focused on the task at hand and could get a little...harsh. And Warren? He had one of the biggest personalities you could find. He'd scare her off before we had a chance to offer her the spot...[Pauses] I probably could've done it, in all honesty. I just didn't want to screw it up. Eddie was better with words than I was, and we needed her in our band. Badly.

EDDIE: And I remember thinking, "Here goes fucking nothing."

The doorbell ringing was what got her attention. No one ever used the doorbell. It was always a knock ― that, or someone just walked in. The L/n's front door was hardly ever locked back then. Y/n's mom was a nurse, formerly a school nurse. She didn't want to risk the chance that some kid took a spill and had to limp home on an injured leg. So all the neighborhood knew, if you got hurt playing outside, you could march on over to Miss L/n's place to get yourself fixed up.

Y/n had her own share of walk-ins, too. By the time she was ten, she had seen her mom help out enough kids that she was practically a nurse herself. She could disinfect and bandage and stitch up any old case that walked through her front door. And if someone who was too busted up for first aid? She knew where the keys to the family Winnebago was and how to drive herself and them to the local hospital. She was only fourteen and didn't have a license, but it didn't matter. She was a safer driver than most everyone else on the road.

So when someone rang the doorbell, she assumed that it was someone too injured to knock. She grabbed the car keys and made sure her suture kit was within reach.

When she opened the door, she didn't see the blood and broken bones she was expecting. Instead, Eddie Roundtree stood on her front porch, hands shoved anxiously in his pockets. He looked all right, but that didn't stop her from asking: "You're not hurt, are you?"

"Um. No," Eddie said quickly, taking his hands out of his pockets.

"Okay," she said slowly, eyes narrowing. "Do you want to come in?"

"Yeah, sure."

Y/n turned and walked further into the house, prompting him to close the door and follow her. She led him to the kitchen. "Lemonade? I made it this morning," she offered, already opening the fridge.

EDDIE: That jug of lemonade was bigger than she was. [Laughs] I could barely watch her get it down. I was afraid she'd drop it on her foot. But she just took her time getting it from the fridge to the table. I found out later that her mom bought a pound of lemons a week because Y/n wanted something to offer every kid that came through their front door. [Pauses]. She was just like that.

He gave a nod. Y/n stood on her toes to grab two glasses from the cabinet. She poured one glass, hands shaking from the weight of the jug, and Eddie realized that this awkward silence was probably the best time to transition into his real reason for visiting.

"Chuck left the band."

"Oh," she said simply. "Sorry."

"Don't be."

She paused, looking confused. And Eddie, who's will to live was slowly draining from this conversation alone, raced to finish what he had (awkwardly) started.

"I just mean that...you're in. The band. If you want to be our drummer, you're in."

Y/n paused mid-pour, setting the pitcher down on the counter carefully. She turned around until her back pressed into the kitchen counter, arms crossed over her chest. "And you thought I'd jump at the chance to join?"

"No. No," Eddie said quickly. "We just wanted to offer you the spot if you still wanted it."

"Did I say that I wanted it?"

"No, but―"

"Okay, just making sure," she handed him a glass and hopped up onto the counter, crossing her legs underneath her. "So you need a drummer?"

"Yes. Badly."

She took a sip from her glass and paused, as if weighing her options in her mind. She swallowed. "Are there any other girls in the band yet?"

EDDIE: Yet. Like she knew it was going to happen. It was just a matter of time.

"No, not yet." he replied.

"Then be honest with me: are you guys sleazeballs?"

EDDIE: Sleazeballs. She didn't sugarcoat things. She wanted to know if we were creeps or if we'd let her play drums in peace. I get that, one hundred percent. but back then, it felt like she was trying to accuse us of something.

"No," he said quickly, "Well...Warren can be a little much, but he means well."

She took another slow sip, once again weighing her options in her mind. "When's your next gig?"

"We play pretty much every night, wherever we can find. It might take us a bit to teach you the songs, but―"

"I can learn them," she said confidently. "How soon do you need someone?"

"Soon as possible."

EDDIE: By then, I was terrified she'd say no. All these questions and never once did she seem really interested in joining. I was already trying to figure out which of us would be the least shit at the drums.

"Okay. I'm in."

EDDIE: And that was it. She said yes. I didn't appreciate how much she'd saved our asses right then, but I was relieved. That was for sure.

GRAHAM: Eddie came back, told us she said yes. She couldn't join practice until her mom got home ― she didn't want the house to be empty if some injured kid wandered by ― so we had about an hour and a half to teach her every song.

BILLY: She picked 'em up like [snaps] that. Never doubted it for a single second, either. Once she knew it, she knew it.

EDDIE: She showed up to the first gig in overalls and sneakers. She let Camila put a little makeup on her, too, but we could all tell she hated it.

CAMILA: She was sweet. And, surprisingly, a little shy. I could tell she was a little scared of the boys. That's why she was a little cold to them at first. But she was just the coolest kid. I mean, fourteen years old and joining a rock band? She was a little rockstar, right off the bat. She asked me to put some makeup on her before her first gig with the band. When I gave her a mirror after and asked her what she thought, she said, "I like it, but it makes me feel like a doll. Not a drummer." She liked the glitter the most, though. It became her trademark. She put it on her cheeks, in her hair, everywhere that would catch the light. She'd come off stage and you'd see a little pile of sparkles behind the drum set.

EDDIE: Right off the bat, first gig. It was enough to freak anyone out. She joined the band six hours ago, learned the songs three hours ago, and now she was playing in a club to a couple dozen people. It seems so small now, but back then? It was like starting at Wembley.

Y/n shook out her hands for the eighth time. It wasn't about loosening up for the gig anymore, she just needed something to do that didn't involve throwing a punch or screaming at the top of her lungs. She looked up at Billy, standing at the front of the group, cool and calm as ever, and she had the distinct urge to kick him in the shin. Why did he get to be so calm when she was right behind him, on the verge of throwing up?

She turned to anxiously twisting a single drum stick between her fingers, around and around, faster and faster. Eventually it became so mindless that she barely noticed as the stick slipped from her fingers, clattering to the floor. She bent to retrieve it quickly, hoping no one had noticed.

But, of course, someone did.

"Hey," Eddie said, looking back at her.

"Warren knocked it out of my hands." she said quickly.

Eddie glanced over at Warren, who was a solid two feet ahead of her, physically unable to have knocked a drum stick out of her hands. Y/n knew from that glance that he could see right through her lie. Now she really wasn't in the mood to talk.

EDDIE: She was terrified. And she was lying her ass off about it. I didn't want to run the risk that she choked up in the middle of the show and screwed up our set. So I figured I'd just, talk. And if she wanted me to screw off, she'd tell me. She had a way of saying exactly what she wanted.

"You've heard of the Drummer's Curse, right?" he asked.

She frowned in a way that told him no, she did not.

"First, there's the obvious stuff: drummers have to lug around the most shit out of anyone in the band. Drums sets are heavy and expensive, so there's that. But the worst part is that they're easy to overlook, you know? They're at the back of the stage behind all this shit, everyone stands in front of 'em. Drummers can fade into the background real easy. The best drummers can outshine anyone else onstage. You'll do that one day, but if you're freaked out now, just let yourself fade a little. You'll play better than anyone up there and the crowd'll know it, but you can let them focus on someone else if you want. You get what I'm saying?"

EDDIE: For a second, I thought she was going to punch me.

But then she nodded, wiped off some of the pink lipstick Camila had put on her with the back of her hand, and pushed her bangs to the side. "Drummers' Curse, huh?"

"Some people believe in it, some don't."

"And you?" she asked, turning to him. "Do you believe in that kind of stuff?"

Eddie paused. Shrugged. "Sure. Seems true enough to me."

Y/n nodded. "I don't. It sounds like bullshit to me."

Eddie frowned. She looked up at him. "I'm not going to let myself fade because I'm scared. I signed up for this, you know. The least I can do is own my place. If I outshine you, it's just because I'm that good," she said matter-of-factly. "I will need help carrying the stuff, though."

EDDIE: I didn't know what to say. I mean, [laughs] what the hell do you say to that?

He felt like he'd had the rug pulled out from under him. And then, he surprised himself: he laughed.

And Y/n surprised herself then, too ― she smiled.

EDDIE: That was just...[Shakes head. Smiles.] I don't know.

"I think we can manage that." he said with a smile.

"Ladies and gentlemen...The Dunne Brothers!"

WARREN: If I were still the guy I was back then, I would completely undersell her to you right now. I'd tell you she was an average drummer who was more in it for the thrill than the craft. But that wasn't it at all. She got up there and she just...shined.

GRAHAM: We all knew she'd be scared before the first gig. In fact, she looked about ready to throw up when they announced us on stage. But the second she hit those lights, it was like she was a different person. She waved and smiled like she'd done it a hundred times. The only other person I'd seen do that ― I mean really become another person on stage ― is Billy.

BILLY: That first show with Y/n was a little bit of a trainwreck. We were at least a half beat behind the entire show. And I'm not saying I blame her, but she was new and shiny. We got through it just fine, but I think we all felt it wasn't our best show.

WARREN: That show was bitchin'.

GRAHAM: It was a great show.

WARREN: Back in those days, we'd get off stage and start cheering for ourselves like we'd just won the goddamn lottery. Somewhere along the way, that stopped. We'd just pat each other on the back, say 'good job,' and that was that. But when Y/n got backstage? She was screaming and yelling like it was the best night of her life. And all of us joined in without a second thought ― well, maybe all of us except Billy. He was kind of a hard ass, even then. None of us had ever heard this girl talk louder than a glorified whisper, and then she came out of nowhere with this full-body scream. And who did she run to? Well, I think you can guess.

CAMILA: She just about jumped into Eddie's arms.

Adrenaline is a funny thing. For one, the effect is had on different people can be vastly different depending on who it was. Some people mellowed out, some people amped up. Y/n fell into the second category.

The second she got off the stage, a giddy laugh ripped from her chest, turning more into a scream of triumph halfway through. She was buzzing. Literally. Her hands felt numb ― or, more accurately, they felt like they felt more. Everything she touched was sharp and blinding.

The next person to join in on the screaming and jumping around was Warren. Then Graham. Then Eddie. And then, reluctantly, Billy. Eddie was the last to come off stage, slinging his guitar off his shoulders, and Y/n, without thinking much about it, ran straight to him, leaping directly into his unsuspecting arms.

The others were too hyped up on their own adrenaline rushes to notice that anything out of the ordinary had happened. She wrapped her legs around his waist hanging onto him like a koala. And Eddie, who couldn't deny adrenaline, held onto her back without a second thought.

After a moment, she leaned back, arms still wrapped around his neck, faces inches apart. "Drummers' curse, huh?"

EDDIE: She didn't fade. She couldn't, not even if she tried.

Eddie just smiled and shook his head. "Sounds like bullshit to me."

#daisy jones and the six #daisy jones & the six #daisy jones and the six fanfiction #daisy jones & the six fanfiction #eddie loving #eddie roundtree #eddie roundtree x reader

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avastrasposts · 9 months

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The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 32**

We are slowly moving towards rock bottom with poor Frankie as he tries to get a handle on his addiction and his own demons.

I'm about to update the warnings for the next chapter. If there's something you're very sure you don't want to read about, please heed them. And if you don't want spoilers, please send me a DM and I'll tell you if you need to worry or not. I am moving towards something very dark and I know it might not be everyone's cup of tea and that's absolutely fine!

Series Master List

Chapter 33- Warnings have their own post - Word count: 10.9k

Another week passes, and you think maybe Frankie does better although his nightmares are still ever present, he gets moody sometimes and he’s always too tired, but slowly you think, maybe, you see an improvement. At least he stays away from Joel, you know that. He comes with you to the radio office in the morning or goes straight to someone who needs help fixing something, sometimes he goes scavenging for spare parts, or trades for them at the market, but never outside the QZ. When he’s done he comes by the radio, or you meet him and the guys at the bar. Often Tommy joins you, sometimes even Joel. Pope tells you he’s asked Joel if Frankie has tried trading for drugs again and Joel says he hasn’t seen Frankie at all.

It’s been four weeks since Frankie came clean to you all, and the warm spring air seems light to you, even in the QZ. The ever entrepreneurial manager of the bar, Liz, has somehow managed to turn the grimy backyard into a ‘beer garden’ of sorts and now you’re all out there, sprawled in an assortment of patio furniture around a white plastic picnic table.

Will keeps glancing at the door, Diana hasn’t turned up yet and even though she’s not late, you know Will is on edge until she gets here, just like you are before Frankie turns up.

There’s been an increase in Firefly activity and FEDRA is on high alert, meaning random stops and checks in the street were now commonplace. The group you’d first only heard about through the scattering of graffiti throughout the QZ, had started making noise. Suddenly they’d recruited more people, were spreading their demands for a more just rule of the QZ, and almost every alley wall had their ‘slogan’ hastily spray painted across it; 'If you're lost in the dark, look for the light’.

More than once you’d been approached by them, random women mostly, striking up conversations about FEDRA’s unjust methods and harsh control of the QZ. You knew the guys had also been approached, their reputation as men who knew how to handle themselves and any gun placed in their hands, made them prime targets for Firefly recruiters. So far all attempts had been shut down, getting involved in rebellions was something they’d done back in Delta Force and they were done with that.

Will’s eyes flick to the door leading out to the backyard again as it swings open, but this time it’s Frankie. He’d gone inside for a round of drinks and he stumbles across the threshold, nearly spilling the tray of glasses he’s holding.

“Jeez, Fish,” Benny laughs, “How many drinks did you have before I got here?”

“Only one,” Frankie grumbles, carefully watching his steps as he crosses the yard and sets down the tray on the table.

“The old man can’t take his alcohol anymore,” Tommy jokes, the two youngest men of the group chuckling together as Frankie rolls his eyes and hands you one of the glasses before sitting down next to you, his hand drifting to your thigh almost by its own accord.

“You feeling ok?” you ask him in a low voice as Ben and Tommy continue celebrating being the youngest, and he nods, taking a sip of his drink before he gives you a quick smile.

“Yeah, I’m good, just tired, didn’t sleep great last night again,” he answers and you put your hand on top of his, braiding your fingers between his.

“It’ll get better, Frankie,” you soothe him, “you’re doing great.”

Frankie looks at the whiskey swirling around his glass and gives you a weak smile before he takes another sip and looks over at Pope who’s asked Will something. You keep glancing at Frankie when he’s not looking. You know something isn’t right, but you can’t push it, not yet. He’s too tired, too sluggish even though he seems to be doing better. Pope had said it might just be the withdrawal symptoms, and it’s been only two weeks. But you feel blind, you can’t do anything but trust him, if he’s still using, you won’t know until it’s too late. So you scan his face, watch his moves, hoping and praying he’s being honest with you all and that he’s just fighting withdrawal symptoms.

You lean back, taking a sip of your own drink, when from the street a loud explosion suddenly rocks through the air, making you all rush to your feet and turn towards the entrance to the bar. Shouts can be heard from inside and the sound of breaking glass.

“Come on,” Pope says, “we need to get out of here!” He runs to the door, Frankie’s hold on your hand tightens and you follow him and next to you, you hear Will curse loudly.

“Fuck! Diana is on her way here, I’ve got to find her!” He wrenches the door open, everyone inside is on their feet, facing the front door and someone is carefully looking outside. Just as Will crosses the room, heading for it, the door swings open and Diana runs inside, covered in dust, coughing. He’s on her in a split second, carefully cupping her cheeks.

“Honey, please tell me you’re ok! What happened?”

Diana coughs again and nods, “I’m ok, I think, the explosion was pretty far down the street, I just got pushed by the blast.”

Will is running his fingers over her head, scanning her body for any injuries, before he pulls her into a hug.

“Thank fucking god,” you hear him mumble.

“We should get out of here,” Pope says, the bar is emptying now. The other patrons are filtering out through the door, looking down the street before hurrying off. When you’re all out on the street you can hear the rumble of FEDRA trucks approaching and the blaring of their alarms.

“You guys should come over to our place, it's the closest, gonna be a bitch to get home now,” Frankie says.

“I’m gonna head over to my girlfriend,” Tommy says, “she’s just a couple of streets over, gonna make sure she’s ok.” He waves a quick goodbye before he takes off, jogging down a side street.

“C’mon,” Pope starts walking towards your building. You walk fast, getting out of the way of more and more FEDRA soldiers moving in, heavily armed and looking ready to take down anyone they don’t like. You feel relieved when you make it inside, everyone piling into your apartment, it’s bigger than Pope’s. Just as you’re about to step inside, one of your neighbors comes up the stairs.

“Did you hear the explosion?” he asks and you nod.

“Yeah, we were at the bar, do you know what happened?”

“Those damn Fireflies, they blew up a truck! Blew a big hole in the street!” He shakes his head as he starts up the next flight of stairs, “FEDRA’s going to be worse than ever now, mark my words!”

You sink down on the couch in the crowded living room, Frankie sits on the arm rest next to you and you put your arm around his waist, leaning into his side.

“Fucking Fireflies,” Pope grumbles, “I know they’re trying to make things better but what the fuck do they think blowing up trucks will do?”

“FEDRA will crack down even harder now,” Will says, handing Diana a damp washcloth and helping her clean the dust off her face and clothes. “Have they even been successful in other QZ’s?”

Through the radio, and overhearing people’s messages, you knew the Fireflies have spread over most of the US. From almost every QZ came reports of their activities, usually hiding dissent at how FEDRA ran the QZ’s, it was clear that FEDRA wasn’t doing a good job anywhere.

“I haven’t heard anything of them having any major success,” you reply, “at most they manage to disrupt things, and from what little people say, FEDRA cracks down hard on everyone, not just the Fireflies.”

“How does FEDRA respond?” Pope asks and you shake your head, grimacing.

“Not well…extended curfews, harder punishments, even death penalties, harder controls of medicine and food, checkpoints across the QZ, a couple of places even have public executions, I heard they do hangings in Kansas City.”

“Great,” Benny sighs, “It’ll be fucking Arlington all over again if they keep this up.”

“You can’t blame them though,” Eve says, she’s sitting on Benny’s lap, “FEDRA are fucking fascists, the Fireflies want to over throw them and have democratic rule.”

“Yeah, sure, FEDRA are a bunch of fascists, but when has bombing city streets ever helped?” Benny asks and Eve just shrugs.

…

The next day FEDRA trucks drive through the QZ, blaring an announcement from loudspeakers in the truck beds.

“The criminal gang known as The Fireflies is now classified as a terrorist organization. Any citizen found collaborating or participating will be tried and convicted.”

They drive through the QZ all day and before long you feel a headache throbbing behind your eyes as you sit at the radio. There’s less people stopping by today, most are too scared to go out unless they have to.

“Joy came by with a message for her brother,” Sean says as you share lunch in the office. “She said a FEDRA officer told her they are going to execute anyone found to be a Firefly member.”

“That’s terrible,” you say, “FEDRA’s trials are a joke already, now they’re going to execute people based on those?” You shake your head and scrape the last of the thin stew up with your arepa.

“They’ve put up checkpoints everywhere,” Sean sighs, “It feels like this is only the beginning.”

“Not only checkpoints, I was stopped three times in the street by soldiers on my way over here this morning, everyone is a potential terrorist in their eyes now.” .

Your lunch is suddenly disturbed by a door slamming open down the hall and shouts from the few people waiting for your lunch break to be over. Heavy boots come stomping down the hallway and you throw a worried glance at Sean. The door of the office is only half closed but now it’s thrown wide open, slamming against the shelf behind it with a loud crash. Two FEDRA soldiers step inside, their rifles pointed at the floor thankfully, followed by an office and two more soldiers.

“On your feet!” the office barks, “Up against the wall!” You’d already flown to your feet when the door slammed open, now the soldiers advance on you both with their guns raised and you back up against the only window in the room.

“Where are your records of incoming and outgoing messages?” the office asks, his voice rough as he pushes the papers on the radio desk around.

“We-we don’t keep any records.” Sean stutters, “Sir,” he adds.

“Why not? What are you hiding?” the officer, his name tag says Ambrose, barks, “All incoming and outgoing messages must be logged.”

“Only civilians use this radio, there is no rule saying we have to keep logs of their messages.”

“New rule, from now on you have to keep a log of all messages,” the officer sneers, “Check those shelves for contraband, you two, check those boxes.” He directs the soldiers to the shelves and boxes that line the wall and they start rifling through the content. You know they only contain spare parts for the radio, nuts and bolts, a few wires, but the soldiers go through it like they’re expecting to find drugs and weapons, every piece is pulled out and left scattered on the floor.

“Please, be careful with that, they’re spare parts for the radio,” Sean protests as one of the soldiers knocks over a box of equipment.

“Shut up old man, or I’ll toss ‘em out the window,” Officer Ambrose snarls, “you’re lucky we’re letting you keep ‘em to start with.”

“They’re parts for this particular amateur radio model,” you interject, “they won’t work with the more powerful army issue radio FEDRA uses.” Frankie had taught you that when he helped Sean find some of the parts in an old AV shop a few blocks away.

Ambrose looks at you and you see a glimmer of recognition in his eyes, “You’re Morales’s wife,” he says, “you and him hang around with the Millers and that other beaner, Garcia.” He looks you up and down, “No wonder you work there then, that’s how they get their information.” You feel your skin run cold, if he’s saying what you think he’s saying, then FEDRA knows about the smuggling.

“She works here because she’s an excellent radio operator and she knows this machine better than even I do!” Sean protests, “I don’t know what you’re insinuating.”

“Start keeping those records, old man,” he snarls, still looking at you, “Or we’ll come back and smash the radio and your office to pieces. And just a warning; I catch as much of a whiff of Firefly activity here, you’re both going to the scaffolds.” He barks orders at the soldiers and they step outside, marching behind Ambrose down the hallway. Sean and you are left surveying the mess they’ve left behind, the content of the shelves and boxes scattered across the floor. With a deep sigh you bend down and start putting things back, checking for damage as you go.

It takes you the rest of the afternoon to tidy the office while Sean handles the people still waiting to receive and send messages. He writes down the messages people send, and the ones received, putting all the scraps of paper in a box. If FEDRA wants to read what people talk about, they’ll have to sort through it themselves. Although Sean does raise the suspicion that maybe FEDRA will try to listen in on what the radio receives or broadcasts, it means you’ll both have to be much more careful in the future.

You head back home, feeling rattled by the day’s events, together with the checkpoints and being stopped in the street, FEDRA’s presence in the QZ is starting to feel oppressive. You remember how quickly it escalated in Arlington, praying it won’t come to that.

Frankie hadn’t been past the radio office today, he’d been helping a friend of Sean’s clean out and repair an old open fireplace in exchange for new boots he desperately needed, his old ones falling apart. When you open the door to the apartment you see the new boots neatly placed inside the door and heavy snoring comes from the living room. You look around the corner and smile, Frankie’s on his back on the couch, one arm slung over his head, the other across his chest, mouth agape while he snores, loudly. He’s not usually a heavy snorer but he hasn’t been sleeping well, often waking up tired and groggy. You kneel down next to him and put your hand on his arm, he twitches but keeps snoring, his nose wiggling over his mustache, making you smile. He looks younger and softer than he has in years when he’s sleeping like this, relaxed without nightmares. He must’ve decided to take a nap on the couch after coming home so you leave him sleeping. You tiptoe past him and into the kitchen to start making dinner.

The arepas are waiting to be fried when there’s a knock on the front door. You hear Frankie stir but he doesn’t wake up and you peek out before you open. Pope’s standing outside, a bag of groceries in his hand.

“Hey,” he says as you let him in and take the bag from him. “I brought some of the groceries I got with my ration cards, your cooking is better than mine,” he grins as he toes off his unlaced boots.

“Thanks,” you peer into the bag, spotting some stuff that was definitely not obtainable with ration cards, Pope, Will and Benny had made sure you had more than enough even though Frankie wasn’t smuggling and always seemed to make excuses to fill your pantry. “I’ll cook for you every day if you bring things like this,” you say and pull out a side of pork, something you hadn’t seen in a long time.

“Frankie’s living the good life I see,” Pope chuckles, spotting him, still stretched out on the couch, snoring lightly now.

“He’s not sleeping great at night, he must’ve been really tired,” you look over at him and smile, he mumbles and turns on to his side, back to the room. “I should probably wake him up now though, or he won’t sleep tonight.”

“You get him up then, I’ll put this stuff away,” Pope takes the bag from you and goes to the kitchen while you go over to the couch and kneel down, wrapping your arm around Frankie’s waist and leaning your chin on his shoulder.

“Hey, Frankie boy, time to wake up,” you whisper, running your hand up and down his side and he mumbles incoherently, still firmly asleep. “Frankie, baby, wake up, or Santi’s gonna eat all your dinner,” you tease, shaking him lightly. He must be really tired, usually he wakes up the second you touch him, now he only mutters and rolls over onto his back, throwing his arm over his eyes.

From the kitchen Santi starts rattling plates around; “C’mon, pendejo, despiértate! I’m fucking starving!” he yells and Frankie finally stirs enough to peel his eyes open.

“Cállate…” he mumbles while he blinks the sleep from his eyes.

“Hey baby, wake up,” you smile, pressing your lips to his scruffy jaw, “you’ve been sleeping for hours I think.” All you get in response is a grumble and you take his hand, pulling him up to sitting. He rubs his hands over his face and blinks a few times again, his eyes are red and he looks pretty out of it still.

“Are you feeling ok, Frankie? You look pretty terrible.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles, giving you a weak smile before he yawns, “I slept like shit last night and I was fucking tired all day but I had to help with that fireplace, got ash fucking everywhere.”

“Your eyes are really red, did you rinse them?” you ask and he nods.

“Yeah, but I only had water, I hope it was clean enough.”

“C’mon, dinner’s served,” Pope calls from the kitchen and you give Frankie a hand up.

“The other’s aren’t here yet,” you say, “Will and Benny are coming over with Diana and Eve.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you,” Pope replies, “Will asked me to tell you that FEDRA is putting a new curfew in place, 6 am to 6 pm. It won’t come into effect until tomorrow but they didn’t wanna risk being outside with FEDRA soldiers looking to jump the gun any chance they get.”

“But that means we won’t be able to have dinner together at all!” You sink down in your chair with a grumble, “Fuck FEDRA.”

You start serving the stew, Frankie’s got his head in his hands on the table, giving you a tired smile when you place the bowl in front of him.

“Thanks.”

“Speaking of FEDRA assholes, an officer came by the radio today with a bunch of soldiers and turned the place upside down, luckily they didn’t break the radio,” you say, serving yourself. You see Frankie’s eyebrows furrow.

“What did they want?” he asks.

“Anything, I think,” you reply. “First they asked about logs for in- and outgoing messages, which we don’t keep of course. So they told us we have to from now on and I think they want to see if there’s any mention of the Fireflies from other QZ’s.”

“And they think you’ll write that down in a log book?” Santi says, shaking his head, “they’re more stupid than I thought…”

“I always just assumed they were listening in on the radio. That can’t be hard, it’s just regular amateur radio.”

“You give FEDRA way too much credit, cariño,” Frankie says while dipping his arepa in the stew, “they don’t know shit unless they have someone who actually was a radio operator before the outbreak. And I doubt it.”

“There was something else, more worrying,” you say, “the officer, Ambrose, recognized me as your wife. He made it sound like he knew about the smuggling. When he saw that I worked the radio he said ‘so that’s how they get their information.’ “

“We haven’t used Sean’s radio for setting up trades for years,” Santi frowns, “he couldn’t know about the smuggling through that, he’s hasn’t been in the QZ long enough.”

“So that means he knows about it some other way, but he doesn’t know how you get the information,” Frankie replies, “but how does he know?”

“Yeah, that’s worrying,” Santi says, tapping his fingers on the table as he furrows his brows, “I’ll have to talk to Will and Benny, see if we’re missing something. Or someone.”

The three of you fall silent while you finish dinner, it’s not until you’ve all sunk down onto the couch that Santi speaks again.

“I’m thinking we should probably be more careful with our runs, go less often, even if FEDRA aren’t getting nosy,” he says, opening the bottle of whiskey he’d brought. “Runs are getting more and more risky, not just getting out without FEDRA noticing, but also getting through the area around the QZ.”

“More infected?” Frankie asks and Santi nods.

“Yeah, people who are trying to get to the QZ are getting infected before they get here. And if they can’t, or don’t want to, kill themselves, they just add to the ones already there.”

“Please Santi, please be careful,” you plead with him, “it was always dangerous, if it’s even more now then maybe it’s best to stop.”

“Don’t worry, we have some ideas,” he says, smiling at you. “We’ve got a contact with FEDRA who’s willing to make sure certain supply trucks don’t get checked too thoroughly. I need to make sure he’s reliable and then we can start bringing in goods that way.”

“What’s Joel and Tommy doing?” Frankie asks.

“Still looking for someone to partner up with, don’t think they’ve found anyone yet though.” Santi replies, “And as far as I know, they’re still going outside pretty regularly.”

“I guess they have to if they want to meet up with the guy from Concord,” you say, “he’s the one supplying the oxy right?”

“Unless they found someone else, yeah, it’ll be the same guy.”

Santi stays until he sees Frankie yawn and your eyes starting to droop closed, the day catching up with you both..

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow, get some sleep, both of you,” he winks, “no pre-bed activities, you both look like shit.”

“Thanks Santi, always the charmer,” you mock scowl at him as Frankie yawns again, wide enough to make his jaw pop.

“Night, hermano, see you tomorrow,” he mumbles, getting to his feet. After Santi’s left he locks up and follows you into the bathroom.

“I need a shower,” he mutters, his eyes half closed, “should’ve showered when I got home but I was too tired.”

“I need a shower too,” you say as Frankie begins to peel off his clothes and he gives you a tired smile.

“Please shower with me, hermosa,” he says, holding out his hand as he kicks off his jeans, “No funny business, I promise.”

“What if I want some funny business?” you smirk at him as you unbutton your own jeans but poor Frankie just shakes his head.

“I’m sorry, I’m so tired, cariño, without the pills the nightmares are kicking my ass,” he says, turning on the water and letting it run warm, “I’m not being a very good husband.”

“Don’t be silly, Frankie, you’re the best husband I’ve ever had,” you smile, dropping your shirt in the hamper and stepping in after Frankie, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. The warm water runs over you both and you sigh as it soaks over your tired muscles. Frankie just hums in response, hanging his head and letting the water run over him, until his brain catches up.

“I’m the only husband you’ve ever had,” he says with a snort, turning in your arms and putting his own around you. “You have nothing to compare with,” he smiles down at you as you blink up at him through the water.

“Am I the best wife you’ve ever had?” you ask with a coy voice that makes Frankie chuckle.

“Hmm…let me think about it,” he says, stroking his beard while you playfully poke his ribs and he smiles again, “Best wife I’ve ever had, best human I’ve ever known, you’re perfect in every possible way,” he says, bending down and running the tip of his nose along yours, gently nudging your cheek before his lips find yours. You moan into his mouth as he makes you open up for him, his tongue slipping along yours, tasting you and pulling you closer, deepening the kiss until you’re breathless.

“I thought you said no funny business,” you mumble against his lips when you finally break apart.

“I’m just kissing my wife,” he mumbles back, the heavy weight of his cock making itself known between you.

“Does your dick know that?” you ask, sliding your hand between the two of you and closing your fingers around the thick length, even with the warm water from the shower, it feels hot in your hand. Frankie groans and you feel his hips jolt, thrusting into your hand as you start stroking him.

“Let me take care of you, Frankie,” you mumbled, reaching up and pressing your lips against his neck, your tongue slipping over his wet skin. You can feel the rumble of his throat under it as his cock twitches in your hand. “I want to taste you, feel that heavy weight of your cock in my mouth as you come.” You pull back and look up at him, his eyes already closed, his head tilted back, “Say it, Frankie, tell me what you want me to do.”

“Cariño,” he moans, “please, I want your mouth, suck my cock.” His hips jolt again, he’s holding back from fucking into your tight fist but you can feel him grow increasingly hard under your light grip. You give him a final kiss on his throat before you make him back up against the shower wall, he drops his head back with a dull thud. The harsh bathroom light is on and you take your time as you drop to your knees, admiring his thick and long cock, the shower has made it wet and slick, the head swollen and weeping. Looking up at him, blinking through the shower water, you see that he’s still got his eyes closed, but his breaths are rapid and strained. Still watching him you stick out your tongue and run the tip lightly over the slit. The effect is instant, a strained groan rumbles from him and it makes you smile, you love the sounds you can pull from him when he lets himself focus only on what you do to him, without him trying to make you feel good at the same time.

The water makes your hand slide easily up and down his shaft while you take the head into your mouth, tasting the salty drops leaking from him as you make sure your tongue licks over every part of, tracing the ridge and veins, circling the head with warm lips. He bucks into you, his heavy groans louder as your hand closes more tightly around what’s not in your mouth, he’s already close, you can feel him swell and twitch in your mouth. Pulling back a little you glance up at him and see him looking down at you, open mouth and glassy eyes. Like always when he concentrates his tongue rests on his bottom lip, the pink tip peeking out. He’s breathing heavily and his hips start to thrust lightly almost of their own accord. Still looking at him you let him slip out of your mouth and lick a wide stripe from the bottom of his cock, all the way up along the underside, your hand gliding down and gently cupping his balls as your mouth envelops him again, adding pressure, sucking him in between your tight lips.

“Fuck, bebita, please…” he moans, almost a pained expression on his face, “don’t stop, I need your mouth,” he’s kept his hands by his sides, fist clenched, but now he cups your cheeks, caressing your skin as you take more of him, deeper into your mouth, his blunt head nudging against the back of your throat. His moaning is downright filthy, a panted whine as he squeezes his eyes shut. You increase the pressure, tightening your mouth’s firm grip around his slick cock, letting it slide in and out of your mouth as Frankie’s breathing grows erratic.

“Don’t stop,” he groans, “so close, fuck, your mouth, hermosa…”

You breathe in and take him as deep as you can, your nose nudging the wet curls at the base of his cock, you can feel him spasming as you swallow around him, heavy on your tongue. Your mouth tightens around him, sucking firmly along the whole shaft and with a sudden, loud groan he comes, his hips bucking his cock into your throat, making you gag as you breathe through your nose. Hot liquid fills your mouth, dripping out on the sides as you suck him through his climax. He’s moaning above you, incoherent strings of Spanish, filth pouring out until his cock begins to soften in your mouth. You let him slip out, gently wrapping your hand around it and cleaning him off.

“I might pass out,” he mutters, breathing heavily as he tilts his head back, trying to compose himself, “Fuck me, I needed that, cariño.” He opens his eyes as you stand up, placing a soft kiss on his little belly before he can kiss your lips.

“Best wife I’ve ever had,” he mumbles and you giggle against his mouth.

“I know,” you smirk, “thought I’d remind you.”

“Thank you for the reminder,” he smiles back.

…

The next day things in the QZ get worse. As you walk to the radio with Frankie you can hear the new announcement from FEDRA; Going outside the QZ without a permit is now punishable by death. Entering the QZ without a permit is now punishable by death. Bringing in illegal contraband is now punishable by death. Collaborating with the Fireflies is now punishable by death. A special military court will be set up to deal with all violations of these rules

There are soldiers everywhere, check points every few blocks and everyone is on edge. Frankie holds on tightly to your hand, both of you keeping your heads down as you hurry through the streets. Life in the QZ was never easy, but now it feels like a police state, much worse than Arlington when it all blew up. Frankie looks worried when he leaves you but he’s got work in a different sector.

“If I can even get there, so many fucking check points,” he grumbles, looking over his shoulder as another FEDRA truck rumbles past.

“Be careful, come back if it gets too crazy,” you say, reaching up and giving him a kiss.

“I’ll see you soon, cariño,” he gives you another quick kiss before leaving.

He makes his way towards the eastern section, down towards the docks, passing through two check points on the way. It takes time but he’s only a little bit late when he knocks on the usual door. After a minute a window above him opens up and Tess looks down at him, her long auburn hair tied back. Lowering her gun she raises her hand in a wave.

“I’ll be right down.”

“What happened to Georgie?” Frankie asks as Tess lets him in through the locked front door.

“He got caught coming back,” she say with a scowl, “fucking idiot took a wrong turn in the tunnel and popped up right in front of a patrol.”

“They’ve made that punishable by death now,” Frankie says as he follows her into the empty hotel she and Georgie use as a base, “they were announcing it all over the streets when I came over.”

“Yeah, I heard. He was caught a couple of days ago and is still in lock up as far as I know, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they hang him.” Tess sighs as she unlocks a door to her makeshift office, a small room tucked away at the end of the building behind signs reading ‘Entry prohibited - Bio-hazard’.

“I hope he makes it, he’s not exactly a good friend but I can trust him and he scares the shit out of people.” She holds the door open for Frankie and he steps into the familiar little space.

“I need a favor from you,” she says as she closes the door behind them, “You know Joel Miller.” It’s a statement not a question and Frankie nods, his hand closed around the stack of ration cards he has in his pocket.

“Since Georgie’s most likely gone, I’m going to need a new partner. Georgie had the connections for bringing in most of what I trade. Some connections I can take over, but most he handled on his own. Can you set up a meeting with him? I know he and his brother have been looking to partner with someone,” Tess opens a small safe, making sure to not show Frankie the combination, and pulls out two small baggies. “You still want oxy and ambien?”

Frankie nods, “Joel really doesn’t trust anyone, you sure you wanna work with him?” He gives Tess his ration cards and she hands him the baggies before she counts the cards.

“From what I hear, he might not trust people, but he won’t sell me out to FEDRA,” she replies, sticking the cards in her back pocket.

“No, he wouldn’t do that, and as long as you know his loyalty is only to himself and Tommy, and you can handle that, he’s good to work with, knows his shit.”

“How come you don’t work with him anymore?” Tess asks, ushering him out of the door again.

“My wife doesn’t want me smuggling anymore, I’m all she’s got,” he says, a twinge of guilt eating at him as they walk back through the hotel, “she’s all I’ve got,” he adds.

If Tess notices his uncomfort, she doesn’t mention it, “Must be nice having someone like that, something like that,” she says, “How long have you been with her?”

“Since before the outbreak,” Frankie replies, “we’d been dating for a year when it happened.”

“You’re lucky, both of you,” Tess opens the front door again, leaning against the frame after Frankie’s passed through it. “Both of you still alive, together, must be nice,” she says again and there’s something she’s not saying, Frankie recognizes the undertone of grief in her voice, and he nods.

“Yeah, we’ve been lucky, but we’ve lost people too,” he’s got his hands in his pocket, his fingers closing around the pills in the bags. “If I can introduce you to Joel, what’s in it for me?” he asks and Tess raises her eyebrows. She’s surprised it took him so long to ask.

“Discounts,” she smirks, motioning with her hand to his pocket.

Frankie nods and starts leaving, “I’ll talk to Joel, see if he wants to meet with you.”

“Thanks Frankie,” Tess gives him a wave as he walks away.

…

It doesn’t take Frankie long to get hold of Joel and tell him about Tess but the situation in the QZ deteriorates and plans are put on hold. The Fireflies attack the checkpoint into the sector where you live the day after he meets with Tess and for a few days it’s impossible to leave. You can’t get to the radio or to Will and Benny’s places, there are soldiers everywhere and all there is to do is to stay inside and lay low. You’re both starting to get worried about the situation in the QZ.

“I don’t know where we’d go, but I think we should make an emergency exit plan,” Frankie says one day. “A plan to quickly get out of here if things go bad.”

You nod, looking down at the street through the window. There’s another patrol going down the street, heavily armed. There’s no curfew during the days, you were free to go outside. But as you watch the patrol stop two women walking down the street, searching their clothes and bags, it’s clear FEDRA isn’t letting anyone walk the street in peace right now.

Frankie comes up behind you, leaning his head on your shoulder as he puts his arms around your waist.

“I’ll talk to the guys, see what we can do. We hid a working car just outside the wall, that’ll get us away from Boston at least.”

“All seven of us?” you ask, looking back at him. He sighs and shakes his head.

“No, all seven of us won’t fit, but we’ll figure something out.”

“Maybe we should just try to find some abandoned farm somewhere remote, live away from everyone else,” you say, leaning back so that you can feel his solid chest behind your back, “just risk it out there rather than in here with FEDRA, it just keeps getting worse and more and more oppressive.”

“Maybe the Fireflies will be successful,” Frankie mumbles, watching the patrol disappear around a corner, “turn things around.”

“You really think so?” you ask, he can hear the doubt in your voice.

“No, not really,” he sighs, “but I like your farm idea, fuck everyone else, just you and me.”

“It’s always just you and me, Frankie, even here. The others are like family but not like you, not the way you’re my family.”

He buries his face in the crook of your neck as he tightens his grip on you, you can feel his warm breath on your skin. He doesn’t say anything so you just stand there while he breathes in your scent, memorizing it, as if he wouldn’t recognize it anywhere already.

…

The morning the checkpoint reopens he leaves before you’re out of bed, gently dropping a kiss on your cheek while he rouses you, sitting on the bed.

“I need to see Miguel about some spare parts, the clinic needs to fix some medical equipment,” he mumbles, his lips close to your skin while you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer. He chuckles and untangles himself, “I’ve got to go, cariño, I’ll see you this afternoon, I’ll come pick you up at the radio.”

He makes his way through the checkpoint and over to Joel’s place. Tommy’s already there and Frankie leads them to the meeting spot he’d agreed on with Tess before the check point was bombed, hoping she’ll come back at the same time. Appointments were often postponed or interrupted in the QZ so there was a habit of just turning up at the same place, same time a couple days in a row and hoping for the best if you didn’t hear from the other person.

Tess is there, waiting, when the two Miller brothers and Frankie scramble up to the second floor of a partially bombed building. Joel grumbles about having to ‘drag and climb a fuckin’ dumpster’ but stands up straight and gives Tess a once over when she pushes herself off the dilapidated office desk she was leaning against.

“This is Tess Servopoulos,” Frankie says, “Joel and Tommy Miller,” he points at each man.

“Nice to meet you, Tess,” Tommy says, holding out his hand to her and she takes it with a smile.

“Same, your reputation precedes you,” she replies, holding out her hand to Joel too, who accepts it and gives her hand a firm shake.

“Only a good reputation, I hope,” Tommy chuckles, easing the tension in the meeting, although Joel still stands rigid, putting his hands into his jeans pockets after shaking her hand.

“Frankie says you’re reliable and know your shit,” Tess says, eyeing Joel's silent form like she’s trying to gauge him. She knows he’s the one she has to convince and he’s doing his best to look as standoffish as possible.

“We’ve been smuggling pretty much since the outbreak,” Tommy replies, “been in Boston for about five years now.”

Tess nods, “I’ve been working with Georgie for about six years, here and there, but he got caught by FEDRA last week.”

“Yeah, Frankie told us, bad luck,” Tommy nods but Joel scoffs.

“Bad luck…he got sloppy, if that’s the kind of operation you run, we’re not interested, darlin’,” he says and Tess narrows her eyes at him, opening her mouth but closes it again, biting back whatever retort was on her mind.

She turns to Tommy instead, “I know you used to work with a few other guys, why are you looking for a new partner?”

“Our cousins have a thing about not smuggling drugs,” Joel replies, cutting Tommy off, “that a problem for you?”

“Smuggling ‘em? Not at all,” Tess says, glancing at Frankie and he does his best to not look at Joel. When Joel asked how Frankie knew Tess he said he’d traded with her for spare parts for the radio. It was true, he had traded with her for parts, but only once.

Joel looks at Frankie, connecting the dots, as Tommy gives Tess a rough outline of how they usually operate, what they can get their hands on.

“You ok with that, Frankie?” Joel asks him, “Tess trading drugs? You got a handle on it?”

“Yeah, it’s not a problem,” Frankie looks up at Joel and wills himself to keep his eyes steady on the older man, “it’s fine.”

Joel gives him a slow nod, “Ok, as long as you’re fine with it.”

But Tess frowns and looks at Joel, “What do you mean?” she asks, eyeing him, “Why would Frankie have any problems with me trading drugs? He buys them from me.”

Tommy raises his eyebrows at this piece of information and looks at Frankie who tries to square his shoulders and look like he’s in control.

“They’re worried I’ll get addicted,” he says, “I got pretty bad PTSD after I left the army and when shit gets too dark here, it comes back,” he shrugs, feigning a casual attitude he doesn’t feel, “but I just need the shit to sleep, the nightmares never really went away and the pills help with that, that’s all.”

He knows he’s not telling the whole truth and Joel certainly knows that, but Frankie meets his eyes and refuses to look away, willing the man to understand that he’s got it under control.

Tess gives him a hard stare as Frankie tugs on his ball cap and crosses his arms. “Ok, as long as you’ve got a handle on it, I don’t have any issues, I’m not your moral compass, we all do what we need to do to get by. And from what I hear, you guys sell drugs too?,” she looks over at Joel who nods.

“Yeah, but I stopped selling to Frankie a while back, and we stopped working together, what we did triggered his PTSD.”

“I’ve got it under control now,” Frankie says, he can feel the familiar panic creeping through his nerves. If Joel tells Tess to cut him off he has nowhere else to go. “Since I stopped with the smuggling I’m fine, it’s just the nightmares that give me insomnia, I just need the drugs to help me sleep on nights when it gets bad. But it’s less now, hardly ever.” He’s lying through his teeth, trying to keep his voice steady and his poker face on, but he’s not sure he manages.

“I don’t give a fuck, Frankie,” Joel says, “I’m not selling to you, mainly out of respect for your wife and Will and Benny. But like she said, I ain’t your moral compass.” He turns to Tess again, “Either way, that doesn’t affect our potential partnership. Since Frankie trusts you, maybe this can work, but I need to talk to my brother in private first. We’ll let you know in a couple of days.”

Tess nods and shakes both Joel and Tommy’s hands before the two men leave. Frankie and Tess follow after them, jumping down onto the dumpster.

“Your wife’s not gonna come after me for supplying drugs to you, is she?” Tess asks as they reach the ground.

“No,” he shakes his head, starting to walk away.

“She doesn’t know, does she?” Tess has crossed her arms over her chest and is giving him another hard stare.

“She does, she knows I take them to sleep,” Frankie tugs on his cap again, he knows it’s a nervous gesture and Tess just shakes her head.

“You’re a shit liar, Frankie,” she says as she gives him another hard look, “Just keep it under control, ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s under control:” He raises his hand and gives her a wave, “I’ll see you around, I’ve got to get going.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you around, Frankie.”

…

Despite Joel’s mistrusting nature, he agrees to start working with Tess, on a trial basis. Frankie finds out a few days later when he asks Tess for an actual spare part for the clinic.

“Joel’s a piece of work, but I prefer that to someone who throws his trust at anyone, that’ll get you killed,” she says, taking the ration cards the clinic had given him in exchange for a pristine looking piece of equipment. Frankie doesn’t know what it does exactly but he knows the one in the machine is broken and he’ll fix it somehow.

“Joel knows his shit,” Frankie says, tucking the equipment into his backpack, walking back through the hotel with Tess. “Thanks for the part, Diana will be happy, the machine is important to them.”

“Sure, let me know if you need anything else.” She gives him a wave as he leaves.

When he meets up with the rest of the guys later at the bar he tells them about Joel’s new partner.

“I’m surprised Joel’s prepared to work with someone else,” Benny leans back on the couch and kicks out his long legs, “Tommy says he’s turned down both Miguel and that guy Robert.”

“It’s a smart move,” Will replies, “FEDRA is all over the place, he’s gonna need an extra pair of eyes for any bigger trades. We’re gonna need to be real careful too, it’s no longer just a few nights in FEDRA lock up. They’re actually going through with fucking executions.”

“As if dealing with raiders and infected wasn’t bad enough, now FEDRA wants to kill us too?” Benny huffs, “Half the stuff we bring in goes to soldiers, for fucks sake…”

Pope nods and takes a sip of the bar’s homemade whiskey, grimacing at the taste, “They were setting up for a hanging when I came over, three guys caught in condemned buildings. If FEDRA’s already suspecting us like your girl said, Frankie, then we should probably lay low for a few weeks. We’ve got the supplies we need for now.”

“What about the trade we have planned, we’ve got stuff coming in from Worcester, that deal Will and I set up? We’re gonna need to receive it and get it stashed as soon as it comes in.” Benny looks over at the others.

For years their best contact had been a FEDRA soldier in the QZ, and through him Benny and Will had made a connection with a FEDRA officer in the Worcester QZ, the man’s brother in law. It had taken months but a convoy of FEDRA trucks were due to come over from Worcester, together with the officer and a number of much needed supplies hidden among the official FEDRA shipments. Thanks to Boston being a much bigger QZ the guys had been able to offer him a large stack of ration cards in exchange for a number of in demand items.

Pope nods at Benny, “Yeah, we have to handle that one, we won't be able to postpone it.” He glances over at Frankie, “I hate to ask, hermano…” he says, “but we could really use your help, just as a look out, for that trade now. You think you’re ok to do it? I hate to say it, but you still look like shit.”

Frankie shrugs, “I still don’t sleep great, the nightmares are a bitch, but yeah of course, if you need me, I can do it.”

“Are you sure, Frankie?” Will asks, “I don’t want you doing this if you don’t feel ok, we’re not risking your recovery for this. The three of us will just do it as usual.”

“If you need me, man, I can do it. And it’s just as a lookout right? That’s just keeping an eye on things, making sure no FEDRA patrols are around?”

“Yeah, we’ve set up a lookout point near the location and we got some radios. All you’d need to do is sit there and radio me if anything happens.” Pope says, glancing over at Will who nods.

“Talk to your wife first though, we don’t want to cause any family drama here, make sure she’s onboard with it and thinks you're ok to do it.”

“Yeah, I’ll talk to her tonight, I’ll let you guys know tomorrow,” Frankie says, putting down his glass and getting ready to leave. “I’m picking her up from the radio office in a little bit. What day is this happening?”

“Thursday,” Pope says, “I’ll come by tomorrow and we’ll talk it through.”

“Ok, yeah, I’ll talk to her, but I feel good, I can do that, I wanna help you guys anyway I can,”

“Appreciate it, man,” Benny says, Frankie drops his hand on the younger man’s shoulder as he’s leaving and Benny gives it a quick squeeze, looking up at Frankie. “It’s good to know you’re doing better, Fish.”

Frankie gives him a crooked smile and a wave to the other two and heads out the door of the bar.

…

Frankie’s waiting outside the radio when you step outside, Sean’s taken over the radio for the evening and you’re stretching out your back after a long shift hunched over the dials and notebooks. You see him before he sees you, leaning against a barrier on the other side of the street, watching a group of children playing on a makeshift playground in a small park. They’ve all got the rough looking hand me downs the orphan children of the local FEDRA school wears and there’s two elderly ladies in FEDRA uniforms keeping an eye on them.

Frankie looks tired, dark circles under his eyes and his ordinarily tan skin is ashen and gray. His curls are still brown but his scruffy beard is mostly silver now, as you watch his hand comes up and absentmindedly rubs across his jaw, scratching at the short hairs. You’d spent some time last night giving his beard and hair a trim, giggling as he wriggled his nose when the hairs tickled him. Sometimes he was back to his normal self, relaxed and soft around you, sleeping better without nightmares, even cracking jokes and messing with Benny when you met up with the others. But you could see that he was struggling still, the good nights were far apart and most mornings he moved like a sleepwalker, taking time to come back to life. In the evenings he stumbled to bed and was fast asleep as soon as he’d curled himself around you, sometimes the nightmares would plague him but he couldn’t wake up, you’d shake him and he’d be trapped in his nightmare. When you finally managed to rouse him he’d be disoriented and panicky until he fell asleep again, almost instantly.

Now you walk across the street as he watches the kids take turns on the makeshift tire swing. You know which one of the children he’s looking at; a young girl, about five, with the same dark curls as Lucía. She’s hanging on to the swing, shrieking with laughter as another girl spins the tire around, her hair whirling around her head as she throws it back and giggles.

“Hey Frankie,” you say as you come up to him, he turns around as you sneak your arms around his waist, pulling him out of his silent reverie.

“Hey cariño,” he says, giving you a kiss before turning back to the park. The girl had gotten off the swing and was running towards the slide. “She reminds me of Lucía,” he mumbles, glancing over at you, “makes me wonder what she’d look like now.” You give his waist an extra squeeze as you watch the girl shoot down the slide and run around to climb back up to the top.

“She’d be fifteen now, too old for playgrounds,” he gives a small smile, “although, I don’t think she’d ever get too old for swings, she loved them.”

The little girl has climbed to the top of the slide for a third time and is standing up, waving at someone.

“Come here! Ellie, come on the slide with me!” she calls, waving her arm and a younger girl hurries across from the swings and climbs the stairs, her short legs struggling with the big steps. The older girl instructs the younger to sit down in front, and together they slide down, their high pitched giggles carrying in the clear spring air. It makes your heart clench, the sound and the image so normal, reminding you of the times you’d been at the playground with Frankie and Lucía.

“C’mon, we should get moving,” Frankie says, pulling his eyes away from the dark haired girl as he takes your hand. His mood is subdued on the way back to the apartment. You tell him about your day and he hooks his arm around your shoulder, listening as you walk through the crowds. But he remains silent, lost in his own thoughts when you stop talking. When you get back home he toes off his shoes and goes to stand in the doorway to the kitchen, leaning on the frame with his arms crossed as you fill a pot of water.

“Joel and Tommy are gonna partner up with a woman called Tess,” he says after a while, breaking the silence. “Tess has been helping me get spare parts for the clinic and she asked if I’d introduce her to them.”

You look over at him, you can hear from the tone of his voice that he’s not done. And he confirms it as he drops his gaze, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

“Pope and the guys asked if I could help them out on a trade, as a lookout, but they wanted me to talk to you first, make sure you’re ok with it.”

“Tell me about it,” you say, turning to lean on the counter as he comes over and stands next to you.

“They’ve got a connection with this guy in Worcester, he’s bringing in supplies on a FEDRA truck, as part of a bigger convoy. They need me to be the lookout when they meet the men inside the QZ. I won’t go outside and I won’t be near the actual trade, just be the lookout.”

“Do you feel ok about it?” you ask and Frankie nods.

“Yeah, I wanna help them with this,” he says, turning a bit so that he can look at you. “FEDRA is patrolling more and they need me to warn them if there’s a patrol approaching.”

“Your nightmares are still really bad though, and sometimes I can’t even wake you up from them, Frankie. If something happens, is it gonna trigger you even more?”

“If something happens and I’m not there to keep watch, that’s gonna be even worse,” Frankie shakes his head, “They need my help with this. Once they’re done with this they’re gonna lie low, FEDRA’s hanging people over the smallest charge now, but this trade is too big and they can’t postpone it.”

“And you’ll only be lookout, away from the actual trade?” you question and Frankie nods again.

“They have a lookout point nearby, I’ll have a radio and just contact Santi if something happens, that’s it.”

You lean against the counter while Frankie looks at you, waiting for your answer, for your approval. It makes you realize that he hasn’t done that before, let you make the decision. He’s told you about the plans, listened to your opinion and adjusted the plans and made changes so that you would be more comfortable about letting him go. This time, when what he’s been asked to do really doesn’t seem all that dangerous by comparison, he’s leaving the whole decision up to you.

“Ok, if you think you’re ready for it, I trust you Frankie, you should help them.”

“I do, I feel strong enough to do this, thank you cariño,” he steps in front of you and grabs your thighs, hoisting you up onto the counter so that he's standing between your legs. It makes you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands find your hips, kneading the soft flesh under his fingers.

“When is it?”

“Thursday…was your skin always this soft here?” he’s running his nose down your neck, pulling back the scruff of your hoodie and burying it just above your clavicle.

“You’re distracting me, Frankie, I had more questions,” you laugh, his tongue comes out and licks a warm strip across the ridge of the bone.

“I know, that’s the point,” he mumbles against your skin.

“Much as I love this horny version of you, you should try and get as much sleep as possible until Thursday, I know how tired you are.”

“Take me to bed then,” he chuckles, still buried against the crook of your neck, leaving a burning trail of nips and kisses up your throat.

“We haven’t even had dinner,” you laugh as he tries to make you hook your legs around his waist so that he can pick you up, “Let me make dinner and then I’ll take you to bed for dessert.”

“My favorite kind of dessert,” he smiles, pulling back from your neck to kiss your mouth, making you part your lips for his tongue.

“Why don’t you take a nap on the couch while I make dinner, Frankie,” you say when he starts working his way back down along your jaw, “because at this rate, we’re never getting dinner,” you have to giggle when he starts pushing up your shirt, his warm hands palming over your back.

“Too horny to take a nap now,” he chuckles, but he stands up and lets you slip off the counter. And when you start pulling out ingredients he gives your butt a final squeeze and does go to the couch. It doesn’t take long before you hear his soft snores, when you look over he’s face planted on the couch, one arm dangling off it, the other under his head as a pillow.

…

The trade is set up to take place after dark, and after curfew. Sunset in May in Boston is late so Frankie and the guys make their way to the meeting spot well before the curfew comes into effect and bunker down to wait for darkness. In an off limits building, an old office building near the QZ wall, Pope, Will and Benny have set up a secluded spot for the trade. Now the four of them are in the building across the small square, up on the fifth floor, inside a spacious apartment with a bird’s eye view of the neighborhood, the lookout point.

The sun is slowly sinking below the horizon while they wait for the agreed upon hour. Benny’s brought an old battered pack of playing cards and they’re killing time by playing rounds of poker. Frankie curses when he loses yet another game, thankful they’re only playing for the silver cutlery Pope found in the apartment's kitchen. The utensils clink as Will drags them across the dining room table after winning his seventh game.

“Fuck, Will, teach me your ways,” Frankie grumbles, he’s down to two spoons and one knife.

“Skill, Catfish,” Will chuckles, sorting his cutlery into neat piles, “And years of counting numbers.”

“I just keep getting shit cards,” Benny mutters, tossing his losing hand onto the table with a snap of his wrist, making them scatter. “Your turn to deal, Pope.”

Pope gathers the cards and quickly deals again, “I’m winning those spoons back, Will, just so you know.”

“Whatever you say, man, you’re happy to try,” Will chuckles, straightening out the six large spoons he’s got neatly lined up along his eight knives and eight forks. “Just need to get Frankie’s two spoons and I’ve got a full set.”

After two more rounds, Frankie kicks back his chair and throws his arms up in defeat, “I’m fucking bust.”

“It’s alright, Fish, Diana and I will be thinking about you when we have dinner tomorrow,” Will smirks, sliding the spoons over to his side of the table.

Pope looks at his watch and out at the dark night sky, “We should get going, scout the area again and position ourselves.”

Benny gathers the cards and they all pack up. Frankie makes his way out to the large balcony wrapped around the corner of the building and scans the square and the surrounding streets.

“All’s quiet out there,” he says in a hushed voice as he comes back in. Pope grabs his radio and turns it to the pre-agreed frequency and tests the connection.

“I’ll radio you when we’re in position, make sure the connection is clear,” he says, clipping it onto his belt as Frankie does the same with his radio. “And don’t forget our contact is going to signal you when they cross the square.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s all under control,” he nods, waiting while the three men pick up the equipment they’d put by the front door when they came in. Even though it was a trade, old habits die hard, and they all had concealed handguns and backpacks with extra gear. Frankie secures his own gun at the back of his pants and triple checks the battery on the radio before picking up a battered pair of binoculars.

“Alright, ready to go?” Will asks and the other two nods. “Radio us if there’s anything irregular, Catfish.”

“Stay safe, I’ll see you at the rendezvous soon.”

Frankie locks up behind the guys as they leave the apartment and hunkers down on the balcony. He’s dragged out some of the less damaged couch pillows and propped them up along the railing and floor, making a nest where he’s hidden from sight. Through a small opening he can scan the streets below, laying flat on his belly with the binoculars in front of him. His nerves are making him jumpy, he’s not used to being without the sleeping pills this long, and it adds an extra layer of stress to the usual laser focus he has during a mission. Even though he’s ‘just’ the lookout he feels the familiar tingling in his spine as he scans the street.

The radio crackles to life on his belt and Pope’s voice comes through; “Catfish, we’re in position. Do you copy, over?”

“Loud and clear, Pope. I’m in position, over.”

“Maintain radio silence unless necessary, over.”

“Wilco, out.”

He clips the radio back on to his belt and settles down. There’s still about thirty minutes left before the other party is due to turn up, but both Will and Pope like having plenty of margins to work with. He glances at his watch and calculates in his head how long it would take for one of the oxy tablets to kick in. He needs something to sooth his nerves, it’s like he can feel every seam and stitch on every piece of clothing he’s wearing, scratching and grating against his overheated skin. Even his hair is itching where it curls over his ears and he swipes off his cap and pushes it back. Just one oxy, to take the edge off, let him focus while he waits.

He swallows it dry, almost regretting it as the bitter flavor coats the inside of his mouth. But soon he feels the effect, his body goes loose, the scratching stops. He watches two men hurry across the square, stopping to give a one handed wave three times up towards Frankie’s balcony. The trade is underway, he leans back against the wall.

It’s so quiet up here. The QZ is always so noisy, so many people in such a small space, up here he can’t hear anything, it’s so peaceful.

All the people are gone. It’s only him. Up here.

And these pillows are so soft, they feel like clouds against his face.

Only him high up in the sky with no noise.

Just soft pillows and soft clothes and darkness behind his eyelids.

Chapter 33

Taglist: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer @mxtokko @javicstories @nunya7394 @welcometothepedroverse @harriedandharassed @meveispunk @hiroikegawa @jwritesfanfics @vickie5446 @your-slutty-gf

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quinnydoll · 3 months

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You should watch Eureka Seven

So there's this neat little show I watched before I turned 10 when I couldn't understand a goddamn thing, and it caused me to think about the cool aesthetics of giant robots flying around stylishly on boards as naturalistic trails flow behind them.

I rewatched the show recently with my lovely nesting partner, because I wanted to revisit its world, and I was offered so much more than I remembered. Yes, the show is absolutely what I just described in the previous paragraph/run-on sentence(fuck you this isn't a school assignment) but it's also SO MUCH MORE.

I'm not going to beat around the bush, there's a singular gif I can show people that usually convinces them to watch it with the added info that this isn't just a super highlighted moment, it's just what the show looks like:

(side note: if you haven't seen this show in its entirety, do not, I repeat DO NOT search for gifs of it on this site, never have I ever seen such a dense wall of spoilers)

Still with me? I'd hope so after that display! Also, for non-mecha fans, PLEASE I am begging you to still give the show a chance, it's so worth it!

So we need to start off with this show's worldbuilding. The giant robots can wait, because first we have to address the most glaring thing: everyone seems to have access to these boards that seemingly allow them to levitate and travel in midair on these almost fluid-like trails. These are explained as Trappar Waves, and not much is explained about them early on. I'm going to keep my explanation brief, because it's way more satisfying to watch the mystery unravel through the course of the show.

Basically, the planet this takes place on is full of these waves, and that's one of the main things that everything relies on, and why we can see effectively airships that are just perpetually suspended in the air without need to refuel constantly. This is what allows them to stay up. Also the reason why we see characters with their nifty little boards. Oh yeah, the giant robots have those boards too.

That's the main thing I wanna address about the world of this show, because explaining the rest would genuinely spoil so much of the show, and the experience would be extremely reduced by me explaining. Just trust me, it's really good.

Now, the format of the show is actually masterfully done. The first arc involves the immaturity of the main character, and the format of the show reflects it heavily in the very slice of life format as our main character is enchanted with the conditions he's been put into. At this stage of the series, it's not very serious, and its stakes are pretty low.

As it progresses though, it eases you into a far more coherent overarching narrative in a way that feels really natural and well done. You'll never really "notice" the point at which "shit gets real" or anything, you'll just find yourself way more interested in the bigger picture of what's going on, because the show puts a larger focus on it.

There's a romance story in it too, and it's actually really well done, which is something I haven't really seen effectively done in a lot of action anime, but I think in this case it's because they don't really treat it like a "subplot." They do a really good job of tying it into the main story, and they make it feel pretty real as a romance, and by the end, the payoff is the most satisfying one I've seen of really any romance plot that isn't necessarily the actual main focus of a story. I genuinely feel like they could've conveyed the story they did without the romance plot, but something truly impactful would've been lost had they gone that route.

I think it's not unfair to compare this show to Neon Genesis Evangelion, but at the time, it would be doing both stories a serious disservice. Evangelion is a really effective exploration into nihilism and mental illness, but Eureka Seven feels like a direct response in the way it delivers its story. It feels like it did a Better Rebuild™ before the Rebuild movies even came out.(let it not be said that I don't like the Rebuild series, it's legitimately in my top ten.) Early on, they communicate a lot of the same themes, but then Eureka Seven diverges hard with how it explores the intricacies of interpersonal relations and how people will strive to do better and how people can genuinely be better to each other. I feel like the way it delivers that is genuinely way more effective than even the extremely cathartic conclusion to Evangelion 3.0 + 1.0.

Seriously though, if you're not interested in watching this show, I don't know how to convince you. It's truly a fantastic show, and it's honestly taken the spot of "favorite anime" in my book. I am no longer a Gundam fan, but an Eureka Seven fan who also likes Gundam. You're going to love this show, even if you're not into mecha anime.

#gundam #evangelion #eureka seven #anime

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erraticalart · 9 months

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Saw Fortress II

Well, is this what you've been waiting for?

So, as some of you may or may not know, Saw is getting a new movie, Saw X, in two days and I'm so excited for it to come out! I decided to pay tribute to this movie by making a crossover between Saw and, of course, Team Fortress 2. I've been getting interested and invested in the Saw franchise, from its story to the characters and especially the creative but deadly traps. Took me about 22 days to create as I had classes and needed to take breaks every once in a while, but I finally finished it and presented it to my brother as a birthday gift (as well as an official Fallout cookbook).

Now, for the fans of both Saw and TF2, I'll explain the reason why I chose the characters and their designated roles. It's time to play a game.

Character Comparison and Roles

Warning: Spoilers for the Saw franchise

RED Engineer: John Kramer aka Jigsaw - Well it's pretty much obvious why. They're both engineers. They both are talented in creating many different unique contraptions that are beneficial, but deadly and dangerous. Engie also has his morals, although it's way different from John's. Let's not forget that Engie can be somewhat a little sadistic and loves seeing his enemies go down, although John hates sadistic people despite the irony in his traps. Also, are we gonna ignore his Gunslinger taunt kill and his sinister, evil laugh? I'm not sure if Engie should have the Gunslinger with him, but I think it would be pretty cool to have it on him. Maybe in this version when he attempts to commit suicide and fails, but all he's left is a completely maimed hand, he cuts it off entirely and replaces it. It would be a pretty cool backstory as to why he has it and would make a really cool reveal to show to the audience. I wonder what Engie sounds like saying the iconic line "Game Over"?

BLU Medic: Dr. Lawrence Gordon - It's also pretty obvious why. He's a doctor. (Can you guess the reference?) Dr. Gordon is my favorite character in the series, and I love seeing the change and progress in his character from a doctor and trap victim in the first Saw film to John's favorable accomplice and in his words, "My greatest asset" in Saw 3D/Saw: The Final Chapter/ Saw VII (Yeah, I can't believe that movie has multiple names). In a way, it makes sense to have Medic as Dr. Gordon because just like how it was shown at the end of Saw VII that he and John worked great together, Medic and Engie are also seen working together in Expiration Date as lab partners. They both would work great as an amazing sadistic duo. Also, I think it's kind of cute to have Engie give Medic a prosthetic foot after he too cuts it off entirely. Not only would it make sense because Engie knows a thing or two about prosthetics, but it would show that Medic and Engie both have something in common: cut off what's unnecessary to help with your survival. Medic would also try to justify and reason Engie's actions. Also, I love Dr. Gordon's "Game Over" line, it's soooooo good!!! It's my personal favorite (Of course nothing beats John's iconic classic version). I could totally imagine how great Medic would sound saying that line!

BLU Spy: Detective Lieutenant Mark Hoffman - Ok, this is where things start to get a little interesting. Hoffman became John's accomplice after replicating his ideas and making his own traps that John never made himself. In a way, he's becoming Jigsaw. Just like how Spy can become and replicate any class, Hoffman also became more mysterious and secretive to his fellow colleagues and tried to frame Special Agent Peter Strahm as Jigsaw. In the end, when he gets caught, he goes against everyone and executes them, so the secret never comes out. Also, another reason why Spy is Hoffman and please tell me if I'm not the only one here who thought this when watching Saw: Did anyone else get Hoffman and Strahm mixed up because they almost look like the same person and it's always confusing when there's a scene that focuses on one of them but it's actually the other? I decided to have two Spies in the story with the BLU Spy as Hoffman and the RED Spy as Strahm since they look the same minus the color.

Miss Pauling: Amanda Young - You're probably thinking, "Why her? Is it because she just so happens to be female and I just filled her in that role?" Well yes, but actually no. It's because Amanda was very loyal to John, looking up to him, defending him constantly, and was very close to him. Miss Pauling fits that role when it comes to the Administrator, but here she's loyal to Engie. I feel like she likes Engie the most out of any other class, so she would definitely help him out as well as get advice from him. She also can get shit done when being asked to accomplish a task. Sadly, we know what's to come for Amanda. Just like how in the comics Miss Pauling fails to bring the Australium, Amanda fails in John's tasks as he reveals to her that she's part of another game. I do feel like Miss Pauling was stuck playing around in the Administrator's game and it was also implied that every year the Administrator sends people to assassinate her to see if she succeeds as if it's an employee review. So, yeah, Miss Pauling and Amanda both are stuck in pretty tight situations.

RED Pyro: Billy the Puppet - Ah, yes, who could we ever forget? The main icon of the series. Both Pyro and Billy have terrifying appearances that'll leave you quivering on sleepless nights. I used to fear Billy as a kid, but now I see him as endearing and strangely, but freakishly, adorable. Pyro is freaky-looking, but he's such an adorable bundle of flames. I could definitely imagine seeing Pyro riding on Billy's iconic tricycle. That would be so funny, cute, and scary. As for Pyro's voice, since Billy is voiced by John (and Hoffman, I think? Idk), I'm not sure if Engie (or Spy) should voice Pyro since Pyro speaks in muffles. Maybe they should, idk. I also don't know if Pyro should speak in mumbles from time to time or whether he should have the ability to move and just walk around or just remain seated. And, of course, I don't know if Pyro should do his iconic laugh (maybe sometimes, idk). What I do know however is that Pyro should definitely have the iconic Billy laugh.

RED Balloonicorn/The Combustible Cutie Cosmetic (Yeah, I know it's pink, but it's the RED team's version which is why it's pink): Pighead Mask - Oink! Or in this case, Neigh! The mask that John and his accomplices dress up as with the iconic robe (though I'm not sure if this robe should remain red and black or pink and black, maybe the first option should be for Engie since he's the leader while the accomplices get the latter, or not, maybe they should match Engie, idk). At first, I chose Balloonicorn since it's related to Pyro and I know he'll love seeing everyone dress up as one, but then I remembered that there's a cosmetic for Pyro as a mask called "The Combustible Cutie" that resembles Balloonicorn, and boy does that mask look freaking scary!!! It's really fitting for both Saw and TF2 as a whole! It's pretty funny and scary to imagine getting kidnapped by a herd of pink unicorns all because you've been very naughty.

I hope fans of Saw and Team Fortress 2 enjoy this lovely piece of fanart as this has become one of my all-time favorites to create. I was also listening to the Saw soundtrack specifically the Zepp/Main Saw Themes. My favorite being, of course, "Hello Zepp". It fits Engie and John's character theme even though it's Zepp's (although you can argue that it IS John's since it's his perspective since he's saying hello, which I agree). But my actual favorite is "Zepp Overture" because to me it sounds like a holy church. I especially like the way the string instruments sound. Yeah, I know you can argue that Dr. Gordon has a theme at the end of Saw VII called "Dr. Gordon Montage" and "The Final Zepp" but to me, I think this theme fits Medic the best because, y'know, he replicates that sound by playing an actual saw when you taunt which is both funny and adorable. And it really fits his character to be seen as a holier-than-thou and especially a God. This might also fit Spy, but idk. I'm not sure which themes work for Spy and Miss Pauling or even Pyro (if you want Pyro and Engie to share the same theme, then that's fine by me). I might need to go back and listen to all of them depending on the movies that Hoffman and Amanda appear in. Maybe some of you can suggest one. But anyway, please go listen to the Saw soundtrack, especially the Zepp/Main Saw Themes, it's soooooo good!!! I might as well argue that it's one of, if not, THE best horror themes out there!!!

Here's a link to listen to it while you look at the art or whether you are interested in the Saw series and its music:

youtube

Welp, like I said before, I hope you fans enjoy it!!! I just can't' wait for Saw X to come out soon on September 29!!! I just hope and pray the movie is good though. Well, let's just wait and see. But until then,

GAME OVER!

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whitefoxgirl · 11 months

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🦊Culture Shock🐰 A Jungkook Series - Episode 5: Television/Shows (Ft. Yoongi) (+ mini scenario)

Summary: Jungkook starts a podcast with his best friend who is a foreigner to discuss different topics they were shocked culturally about.

Author's Note: Hello my beautiful readers! I GOT A JOB! WOOOOOO!!! I manifested this!

Author's Note PS: If you'd like to be tagged, interact with this. I am tagging people who reblog, but if you wish to be tagged comment or simply reblog and I will add you! If you see your name in red, I was unable to tag you for some reason, so for that I do apologize.

Pairing: Jungkook x BFF!Reader (not dating, just two best friends)

Fandom: BTS

Warnings: Mentions of sex, cringy, full of crack moments.

Genre: Fluff, crack.

Word Count: 5.3k

Taglist: @7ndipity; @yoongimentita7; @ancoraesisto; @lovemeforeternity; @hrtss4jk; @ellelabelle; @fullpaperperfection; @minpdrecs; @chaconnelatte; @myemmap; @4ev3rdarkarti5t; @hushbabesblog; @drop-dead-yulisa; @bubbletae-1e; @alylista; @jarenpolitovari

🡸 Previous episode

[PODCAST INTRO/THEME]

🦊: *bumps into the mic* Oop! *in between chuckles* Sorry guys!~

Jungkook: Get it together!

🦊: Oh my god~ HEY, King!

Jungkook: Hello peasant.

Yoongi: *snickers*

🦊: O- You know what? That's mean~

Jungkook: *trying not to laugh* Okay

🦊: He's just pouty because he lost in a 1-v-1 on Splatoon against me. Jungkook: It's a stupid game~ Why is it in third person?~ And, why can you see my snipper laser?

🦊: Just get over it!~

Jungkook: Okay!~ Fine! *long pause* For our listeners~

🦊: Exactly. For our listeners~

Jungkook: Before we begin, we do have a millennial in our sights.

🦊: *snickers*

Jungkook: *in between chuckles* This is our second guest! Min Yoongi!~

🦊: *claps their hands*

Yoongi: Hello everyone! I'm Suga from BTS.

Jungkook: Hyung, don't be so formal~ Our listeners don't care.

🦊: Legit, they like that we're relatable.

Yoongi: Okay, okay

🦊: Just like Suchwita.

Yoongi: Without the alcohol.

Jungkook: *gasps* Should we?!~

🦊: *gasps* Daehyun?

*long pause* *muffled voice*

🦊: *gasps* Okay! I'll get it! *in a distant voice* Whiskey?

Yoongi: Yes, please

Jungkook: Get us a beer, please!~

[Spongebob Narrator: Five minutes later]

🦊: We all have our alcohol!~

Yoongi: Thank you, Y/N.

Jungkook: Thank you!

🦊: I would just like to say, we saw Barbie~

Jungkook: We saw Barbie.

Yoongi: Oh! I haven't seen it.

🦊: *gasps* Oh my god~ You know, it's okay. I'll take you.

Jungkook: Y/N cried!

Yoongi: Really?~ Why?

Both: Well-

🦊: Okay! First off, I did NOT expect that Billie Eilish song to hit me so hard!

Jungkook: And not to give spoilers but, it was everything good.

🦊: It's a TRUE feminist icon. It's not misandry, which is what basically every publication is saying it is-

Jungkook: Oh! Absolutely not.

🦊: And it's not misogyny. It's true feminism. Wh-

Jungkook: Without spoiling anything, it had all three-

🦊: Yeah!

Jungkook: It had misandry, misogyny, AND feminism. And it showed how both misandry and misogyny can just be downright ugly and hurtful for the people who are being disliked, and prejudiced while feminism is genuinely something we should all aspire to do.

Yoongi: Oh! I'll give it a shot.

🦊: I saw that in East Asia, a lot of women are taking their partners, especially their cis-male partners, to see Barbie. And basically, they're testing how much of a green flag they are depending on how they feel before the movie, how long they last during the movie and what is their thoughts after the movie.

Jungkook: Oh! Wait, am I a green flag?

🦊: *long pause* Well-

Jungkook: *in between laughs* WHY'RE YOU THINKING ABOUT IT?!

Yoongi: *laughs*

🦊: *in between laughs* Okay! You're the type of green that is making its way toward yellow, but it's not completely yellow.

Jungkook: Okay, at least I'm not completely yellow or orange OR RED!

Yoongi: Be grateful.

🦊: Exa- Thank you, Yoongi!~

Jungkook: Definitely watch it, hyung.

Yoongi: Would you have watched it if Y/N hadn't taken you to the movies?

Jungkook: *silence*

*Yoongi and 🦊 laugh loudly*

Jungkook: Okay! Okay! I would have, but I would not have dressed up!

🦊: I was SO surprised we were the only ones dressed up!

Jungkook: Obviously, I was Ken!

🦊: I dressed up as Barbie!

Yoongi: Y/N when we go, do you wanna dress up too?

🦊: *gasps* Really?!

Yoongi: Yeah, I'll be K-

🦊: No~ Be Allan~ Because you're one of a kind~

Jungkook: *gasps* OH! Okay RIZZGOD!

Yoongi: *snickers then laughs*

Jungkook: You trying to rizz up Yoongi-hyung?

🦊: No~ *long pause* Okay, yeah~

*All laugh*

🦊: Before we begin! I would just like to say that this topic was thought up by Jungkook.

Yoongi: I would have liked to participate in the music one.

🦊: Oh! We can have your opinion on that!

Yoongi: *long pause* Well, I would but honestly Jungkook basically said what I thought about reggaetón.

🦊: Fair enough. I know you have some... *chuckles* Opinions on dembow and phonk.

Yoongi: *chuckles* They're just not for me, but you and Jungkook look like you have fun while dancing to it.

Jungkook: And not like... perreando!

🦊: OH! HE ROLLED HIS R'S!~

Jungkook: Rrrrr~ *laughs* We just goof around.

🦊: We meme dance.

Yoongi: *chuckles*

🦊: Like... You know how there's the stereotype that white people can't dance? We dance like that stereotype.

Jungkook: Just for fun. Not to make fun of anyone.

🦊: Mmno

Yoongi: They look cute together.

Jungkook: We're not dating.

🦊: So, in this episode we're gonna talk about television shows.

Jungkook: Y/N wanted to bring Yoongi on because he's about to head to th-

🦊: Oh my god! Please don't remind me!

Yoongi: *snickers then laughs*

Jungkook: Y/N is really close to all seven of us, but they're especially close to Hobi-hyung, Yoongi-hyung, and me. And since Hobi-hyung is already there~

🦊: I'm suffering...

Jungkook: They have- Okay, they have not taken it well!

Yoongi: Really?

🦊: Yeah... I think that's why in the last episode I cried. You told us- Or, rather, told your close friends when you were leaving, and it was no joke, the day before we decided to record.

Yoongi: Oh!~ I'm sorry!

🦊: I really tried to hold it in, but like thinking about Hobi already being there, and you leaving, just made me think, you know-

Yoongi: It's inevitable...

🦊: Yeah... Jungkook is gonna leave too, and that made me really sad because Hobi and you are my close friends, and that hurts. And I have cried. But Jungkook is my BEST friend... So...

Jungkook: But it's not like you're NOT gonna see us for a year and a half. We saw Hobi-hyung and Jin-hyung!

🦊: Oh my god, I hugged Hobi SO HARD! You guys have no idea. I lowkey cried too.

Jungkook: Both of them had tears in their eyes.

Yoongi: It was so beautiful to see.

🦊: *singing* When did it end?~ All the enjoyment?~

Jungkook: *singing* I'm sad again!~

Both: *singing* Don't tell my boyfriend~

Jungkook: *singing* It's not what he's made for~

Yoongi: *chuckles*

Jungkook: Going back to it.

Yoongi: Mhm.

Jungkook: Y/N wanted you here to get a perspective of shows you watched as a kid since when you were in first grade, we were both just about to be born.

🦊: *snickers*

Yoongi: *hums* Interesting.

🦊: Which, okay, let's be honest. You at the age of 12 were already a professional producer, so...-

Jungkook: Ballin' with a dollar in his pocket.

Yoongi: I was making money but it wasn't like-

🦊: A lot.

Yoongi: Exactly.

Jungkook: Funny how we brought a guest who didn't watch-

Yoongi: *laughs*

Jungkook: *in between chuckles* A lot of television as a kid.

🦊: But he wasn't ostracized, right?

Yoongi: *in between chuckles* No~ no... I did see it here and there, I just didn't dedicate my time to it since I was focused on music.

🦊: We love an ambitious person.

Jungkook: I didn't watch a lot of television either, but, Y/N introduced me to a lot of shows.

🦊: And he doesn't have time for a lot of them but-

Jungkook: The ones that I really like, I invest A LOT of time. I poop with my phone on my lap-

*Yoongi and 🦊 laugh*

Jungkook: *in between laughs* Everywhere! I try not to lose sleep, but when I'm invested. I am in. ves. ted!

🦊: I remember when I was obsessed with "House of Dragons" and I wanted to gatekeep it from Kookie because~

Jungkook: Wh-!

🦊: BECAUSE! It's such like... Okay, it's the prequel to "Game of Thrones" and the television series is over, but the BOOK series is not over! So I didn't want you to get invested so that afterward you get disappointed!

Jungkook: I didn't know that the "Game of Thrones" ending in the series is not canon!

Yoongi: It's not canon and in the book, Jon is still asleep or in a comma.

🦊: Iconic.

Yoongi: Y/N got me into it because they know that I would get invested but I don't make it my personality, like Jungkook and them.

🦊: Yoongi is an observer~

Jungkook: He is.

🦊: Slytherin energy~

Yoongi: *imitates a snake*

*Jungkook and 🦊 laugh*

🦊: First things first, my first exposure to East Asian shows was anime. And I don't remember which one came first because they all kind of merged together in my head, and it was "Inuyasha", "Naruto", "Pokémon", and "Yu-gi-oh!"

Yoongi: Interesting, because all those shows are from the 90's.

Jungkook: Yeah, when I was born those were already long running.

🦊: Well, I think it's because getting them to the western side, especially to the U.S. and Latin America, took some time.

Yoongi: In Korea, Pokémon first aired in 1999, and I was 6~

🦊: Oh! Puerto Rico, it was also 1999 too

Yoongi: You watched it from the womb?

🦊: *snickers* *in between laughs* Okay! Okay! I remember watching the first episode but I GENIUNELY don't remember how old I was.

Jungkook: I didn't watch ANY western shows as a kid other than Spongebob.

🦊: The icon himself!

Yoongi: Jungkook and Y/N watch Spongebob for fun.

Jungkook: But the first seasons, you know?

🦊: It's the most fun, you can tell when the creator walked away and when it because just not fun.

Jungkook: Mhm.

Yoongi: So, what's your culture shock?

🦊: Oh! Okay! Sorry! Okay, so, I did get exposed to shows, but it was interesting when I grew up I started watching dramas. And with dramas, there's like reality shows and stuff like that.

Yoongi: Right, for promo.

🦊: Exactly. Especially if you wanna be *in between chuckles* Delulu~ And you fall in love with the actor's looks~ And~ *laughs*

*Yoongi and Jungkook laugh*

🦊: Wanna get to know them?~

Yoongi: Right, right.

🦊: One of the things that I picked up on quickly was, the plots were all the same. Poor girl meets asshole rich dude. The rich dude has either a cousin, brother, friend, like someone close to him who is just the nicest person ever and THAT'S the love rival. She still chooses the rich asshole because he changed for her, but then something happens. The most common one is that the mom of the rich asshole finds out and pays her to leave, then one of them has an accident and somehow they make it work and boom. Happily ever after.

Yoongi: That's pretty much the jist of them.

🦊: But, my biggest culture shock is the variety shows.

Jungkook: Really?

🦊: Yeah, I just... Okay. It was- I had a weird feeling, like, I didn't know how to feel.

Jungkook: Why, what happened?

🦊: Okay, so, I remember the first one I watched was Weekly Idol, or Doni and Coni which... EW! They're... I remember when I watched you guys' episode, like the first time you were there and I loved it because I was a child. But watching it as an adult? I was like... Oh my god-

Jungkook: *chuckles* Your ARMY is showing.

🦊: I just! Okay... I just don't understand how someone can harass and be so mean to their guests and get away with it because it's "comedy"... Like... How is saying that Yoongi's song was "shit" comedy?

Jungkook: Ugh...

Yoongi: People have their own opinions, I guess.

🦊: Well, their opinion is WRONG. Like... Side eye. You could have just said it wasn't your taste without saying that it was bad and shit, you know?

Yoongi: I agree.

🦊: But, going back to it, the variety shows took me aback because everything is over-edited.

Jungkook: What do you mean?

🦊: Like... They put colorful subtitles on almost every sentence and these subtitles could be what the person is saying, what the person is doing, or what the editors think the person's inner thoughts are.

Jungkook: Ooooh! I hadn't noticed that. But, it's true~

🦊: And then replaying something shocking multiple times in *in between chuckles* multiple angles

Yoongi: *chuckles* 맞아~

🦊: Which, if you think about it, it's very stimulating and lowkey catering to the deaf community, since closed captions and interpreters are in scarcity on the Western side.

Jungkook: I hadn't really thought about it that way, but it's true~

🦊: That was my biggest culture shock. I got used to it after a while but, you know?

Yoongi: Were you shocked about the games?

🦊: *hums* Okay, so, I was but at the same time I wasn't? I don't know how to explain it.

Jungkook: Says as they're about to explain *chuckles*

🦊: *chuckles* So, I wasn't shocked because variety shows on the Western side also have games, but I was shocked at how queerbait-y the games are.

Yoongi: Like passing a paper member to member with our lips

🦊: It's so obvious fan service, but fan service can be very queerbait-y.

Yoongi: That's true.

🦊: Like, shipping friends with each other is... *groans* Not good~

Jungkook: Yeah.

🦊: But, yeah, I don't have any negative culture shock. Except for me being a Doni and Coni lowkey-highkey hater.

*all laugh*

Yoongi: Y/N introduced me to a lot of 90's shows. And, even though this wraps into the music category, I was shocked at how rock-inspired a lot of shows' intro was.

🦊: Which shows do you have in mind?

Yoongi: "Total Drama Island", "Teen Titans" from the 2000s. "American Dragon: Jake Long", and "Ben 10".

🦊: Okay but the other ones~

Yoongi: We saw "Wizards of Waverly Place", "Hannah Montana", "Sonny with a Chance" and a couple others with real people. And some of those also had inspiration in pop-rock.

🦊: Which is so 2000s if you think about it.

Yoongi: Was pop-rock popular in the 2000s?

🦊: In the western side, ESPECIALLY in the U.S. it was very popular.

Yoongi: I was just listening to hip-hop.

Jungkook: Yes he was~ Hip-hop classes were real.

Yoongi: You loved them

Jungkook: I did!~

🦊: As you can hear, Yoongi truly is an observer.

Jungkook: That was your culture shock?

Yoongi: Yeah!~ I was exposed to U.S. culture fairly young since I really like hip-hop culture.

🦊: What was your culture shock, Galletita?

Jungkook: Mine was... I guess the pipeline?

Yoongi: Pipeline?

🦊: Ooh~

Jungkook: So, Y/N basically explained that there's a pipeline of television, especially if you grew up in the 2000s.

🦊: Yep.

Jungkook: Basically, every kid in the U.S. watched either Disney channel with sitcoms or watched cartoons, but all of them came together to watch the hot new show-

JK and 🦊: "Total Drama Island"!

Jungkook: And basically "Total Drama Island" was-

Yoongi: It was a cartoon reality show.

Jungkook: Exactly. So it didn't take long for a lot of kids to get into real reality shows like "Next", "Cribs", and basically any reality show on MTV.

🦊: The pipeline gets split though. If you continued to watch cartoons, you get into anime. The pipeline goes EVEN DEEPER because if you watched anime, and listened to the openings, you probably got into Vocaloids, which are synthesized voca- I don't know why I'm telling you, yo-

Yoongi: I know about Vocaloids, yeah. I danced with one.

🦊: I. CO. NIC! I was genuinely SO jealous when I found out you were dancing with her. SeeU was SUCH an icon.

Yoongi: *laughs* Really?

🦊: I- Well, I fell in BOTH pipelines, but, I definitely fell more into the anime one.

Yoongi: Right.

🦊: But like, the vocaloid pipeline somehow brings you to the kpop pipeline. Which WEIRDLY the heavy metal rock or even rock music pipeline ALSO brings you to the kpop pipeline.

Yoongi: Interesting.

Jungkook: So, one day Y/N got nostalgic and we kind of watched a show that they were into as a child and I, unknowingly, also followed Y/N's pipeline.

Yoongi: Do we have a pipeline?

Jungkook: *long pause* I guess one of the biggest pipeline is that a lot of men in Korea want to be in either entertainment OR sports just to avoid military duty.

Yoongi: Which is not common, but happens a LOT!

🦊: Did you follow that pipeline?

Yoongi: No, hell no. I wanted to be a producer from a very young age not because I wanted to avoid military duty, but because I genuinely love music.

🦊: You did say it was your first love.

Yoongi: It was.

🦊: *sighs smiling*

Jungkook: If we had a camera recording us, I would look at it as if I was Jim from "The Office"

🦊: *snickers then laughs* Why?~

Jungkook: If you know, you know.

Yoongi: *long pause* I feel like I'm out of the loop for the first time.

🦊: You and I both.

Jungkook: You're ALWAYS out of the loop.

🦊: Okay! If I was out of the loop, how did I find out about the aliens BEFORE you?

Jungkook: Oh god~

Yoongi: What kind of aliens would you like? Ones that can transform like Ben 10? Aliens that look human but have superpowers? Or shapesh-

🦊: SHAPESHIFTING!

*Jungkook and Yoongi laughs*

🦊: You guys DON'T understand! If the aliens could shapeshift, I have a LIST!

Jungkook: *in between laughs* A LIST?!?!

🦊: *in between laughs* I have a list that the alien MUST follow!

Yoongi: Who's on top of the list?

🦊: Okay, right now, Toji Fushiguro~

Yoongi: Mmmm~

🦊: I have a lot of people, mainly anime men, because... I can bag a human.

Jungkook: You can't BAG YOUR CRUSH!

🦊: *gasps*

Yoongi: Jungkook-ah!~ *chuckles* Be nice to Y/N!

🦊: I can bag him, I'm just being respectful.

Yoongi: Exactly... Y/N just respects people's boundaries. Wait... So... Who's on the bottom?

🦊: Sukuna. Ryomen Sukuna. But, not because he's not hot, it's just tha- *muffled giggles*

Yoongi: Oh! They're covering their face!

Jungkook: *groans* Here we go

🦊: He has four arms~

Yoongi: *long pause* Right...

🦊: Two mouths~

Yoongi: *long pause* Okay...

🦊: *long pause* And one of those mouths can move anywhere.

Yoongi: Wait... *snickers* Are you...? *laughs* Are you sayin- I don't even wanna say it!

🦊: I'll say it for you!

Jungkook: *laughs* Stop!

🦊: Please let me say it!

Jungkook: Okay!~

🦊: I want an alien to shapeshift into Ryomen Sukuna because he has four arms, so, he can touch my chest with one hand, guide me with the other hand, stimulate my *clears throats* south with the other hand, and grab the back of my head and pull my hair with the other.

Jungkook: You're forgetting something.

🦊: Oh! Because one of the mouths can move, while he's kissing me, he can lick ANYWHERE he wants with the OTHER tongue~

Yoongi: 세상에!

Jungkook: Tell him about-

🦊: OH MY GOD! Okay... So, he- Okay, he... has two... *long pause*

Yoongi: *gasps* TWO?!

🦊: TWO!

Yoongi: Are they side by side? Up and down?

🦊: We actually DON'T have ANY confirmation. But my headcanon is that they're up and down.

Yoongi: How many balls does he have? Two or four? Are they ALSO up and down or side to side?

🦊: Hmm... I hadn't thought about it.

Yoongi: If it's four, there's more.. um... Milk *giggles*

*Jungkook and 🦊 laughs*

🦊: Yeah... And I wanna be filled by Sukuna.

Jungkook: WHY Sukuna, he's LEGIT EVIL!

🦊: Okay~ He's not EVIL!~ He's just... Umm... He's ju-

Jungkook: *deadpan* Y/N, his first lines were "Where are the people? The women? What a wonderful era to be in. Women and children are crawling everywhere like maggots. It's marvelous. It'll be a massacre."

🦊: I can fix him.

Yoongi: *laughs* Can you?!

🦊: I can!~

Jungkook: I mean-

🦊: Well, I-

Yoongi: I have no doubt about that.

🦊: *silent*

Jungkook: I'm looking at the invisible camera.

🦊: Guys?

Yoongi: Hmm?

🦊: Let's pause for a minute. I need to use the bathroom. *muffled movement sounds*

Jungkook: They have a small bladder when it comes to alcohol *chuckles*

🦊: *in a distant voice* You can edit it out, right Dae?

*muffled voice*

🦊: Purr, be right back.

[silence]

Jungkook: *whispering* Are you gonna do it today?

Yoongi: I don't see a point...

Jungkook: Why?~

Yoongi: Well... They JUST called me their "close friend" just now, and I'm about to leave for the mi-

Jungkook: *scoffs* Okay. YOU get to go home because you're going to go to a government office because of your shoulder

Yoongi: Yeah, but I can't do an-

Jungkook: Hyung... Why can't you trust me? I'm their best friend! I know better!

Yoongi: *sighs* *mumbles* You don't get it...

Jungkook: *sighs* *long pause* I'll leave the episode early, so you can close with them. They listen to the podcast, so, if you don't do anything, I'll post it unedited.

Yoongi: Why would y-

Jungkook: Because I know you, and I know them... You two need a little push and this is it.

Yoongi: *gulps* *sighs softly* fine...

🦊: *from a distance* I'm back!~ Sorry I took so long *giggles*

🦊: What else is there to talk about?

Jungkook: How was your first time at HYBE?

🦊: Oh! It was awesome! I was so happy I get to teach the trainees~ Though I wouldn't have minded if I got you!

Yoongi: It would have been fun for you to teach me Spanish...

🦊: Right?! But, I don't need a job to teach you! We're friends, right?

Yoongi: *hums agreeing*

Jungkook: Plus, he's just learning to impress you!

🦊: *scoffs then giggles* Stop! He already impresses me with his music. 28 is my ANTHEM!

Jungkook: You switch the lyrics to Spanish!

🦊: It's fun!~ *singing* Me 'stoy volviendo un adulto~ No me acueLdo 'e na'~ Mis sueños y ambiciones donde estan? Estan lejanas~ Ya no veo ni donde esta la meta!~

Yoongi: *chuckles* 재밌네~

🦊: 그죠~ Jungkook doesn't like it when I do it, but it's SO fun~

Jungkook: Guys... Do the closing without me, I have to go somewhere.

🦊: Wha~ *pouty* But your schedule is free! I got it right here...

Jungkook: It's something with Bam... I'm sorry! It's an emergency!

🦊: OH MY GOD! GO GO! Take care of my nephew! HURRY!

Jungkook: *muffles movements* *in a slightly distant voice* *chuckles* I will! *long pause* Hyung...

Yoongi: 어... 할게...

🦊: 뭐가 할거예요?

Jungkook: Don't worry about it.

🦊: Well! Kookie had an emergency! But Yoongi and I can finish up, right?

Yoongi: Yeah. Thank you for having me here today.

🦊: Thank you for being here!

Yoongi: *gulps* What if I came back to the podcast, would that be okay?

🦊: Oh! That'll be so dope! I'd love to hear your opinion on more things.

Yoongi: I'm an avid listener, so, it's gonna be weird listening to today's podcast once it goes live.

🦊: You'll love it. Daehyun does aMAZING editing.

Yoongi: *long pause* You never reveal your crush, do you?

🦊: *in between chuckles* No... I just- *long pause* *mumbles shyly* I know he listens, his friends have told me...

Yoongi: *hums*... *long pause* Do I know him?

🦊: Mmmm... Maybe!~ *chuckles*

Yoongi: *hums*

🦊: *in between chuckles* Why are you staring at me?

Yoongi: I just noticed how long your lashes are...

🦊: What?~ That was so sudden!

Yoongi: Well... *chuckles* I don't know, it's- I find it kinda cute..

🦊: W-WELP! That's all the time we have! Our producer is telling us to wrap it up!

Yoongi: Leave suggestions for Jungkook and Y/N in the comments and what you would like for them to talk about in the future.

🦊: Yep. And don't forget to stream the D-Day trilogy but Agust D!

Yoongi: Again, thank you so much for having me.

🦊: *mumbles shyly* You're welcome anytime...

Yoongi: 여러분 안녕히게세요

🦊: Hasta el proximo episodio!

Daehyun gives you a thumbs up, indicating that the recording is done for Yoongi and you. You look at him and bow slightly as he smiles softly. You take off your headphones and look back at him smiling slightly then said

"You did great, our listeners are gonna like it!"

"You think so?" He responded. A bit shyly, but not enough to be shown.

You nod and then stand up, a bit too enthusiastically. Daehyun signals you to come to him to inspect the track and what needs to be edited out. You nod at him and then look back at Yoongi, asking him if he would like to be shown out. He shakes his head and then tells Daehyun that he would like to help edit the episode, something that surprised you.

"I thought you had a schedule to-"

"It's okay. I can stay for a little longer" He interrupted.

"I don't want you to get in trouble..."

"I won't. Daehyun can you play it back at exactly minute 49?"

You furrow your eyebrows and look at his empty whiskey glass, thinking to yourself how he couldn't be drunk, since nobody got refills, as per Daehyun's request. Then you put on your headphones to listen back to the audio, pushing the microphone slightly away and taking off your notebook to take notes. You hear yourself stumbling away from the microphone and telling Yoongi and Jungkook that you would be right back. There's a long pause, and you weren't there, but you could feel the air thickening, just as it is at the moment you and Yoongi are playing back the audio. You gulp writing down that this part should definitely be taken away. Then, you hear it. Yoongi and Jungkook talking about how he should do something today, by the sounds of it, a confession. A love confession. You pause your writing, keeping your face as neutral as possible. Looking at the notebook, rather than the eyes that are definitely looking for your reaction. You feel your eyes begin to twitch as if they're about to sprout water, your nose begin to flare, and your cheeks begin to redden as you puzzle that they're talking about you.

Jungkook knew about your crush on Yoongi. He also knew that you didn't want to do anything because you thought it was only a simple crush, but that came to a crash when he called you and told you when he was leaving for the military. You faked your nonchalantness and told him that you would miss him as much as you missed Hobi, but that was the day that the snow melted and spring came when it came to your feelings. You cried to Jungkook that day, and coming into the studio he rented to record was hard. Especially because you had to fake being enthusiastic and happy. In the end, you couldn't hold it in. You were gonna miss Jungkook, he was your best friend. But missing Yoongi was gonna tear your heart apart. When recording that episode ended, Jungkook said to not give up hope and that something for sure was gonna happen. Something happy.

You looked at Daehyun nonchalantly and told him to keep it as it is without any editing, the excuse being that the listeners would like the authenticity. Then, you quickly took off your headphones and gathered your things. Fearing that you wouldn't make it to the door, you rushed your steps. It's not you... You don't wanna get your hopes up. You know he wouldn't like you in a romantic sense. You two are vastly different, another reason why you never spoke your feelings to him. You were bubbly, outgoing, a bit extroverted, loud, and talked with anybody and anything. Complete opposite of him. When you stepped out the door, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and let your tears fall. Silently crying.

"Y/N? You okay?" You heard Jungkook's voice, but that was quickly dismissed as a hand grabbed yours.

You looked up and saw Yoongi, motioning you to follow him. You nodded and followed him to an empty studio.

"You don't like me?" He asked, a bit unsure and insecure.

You shook your head, disagreeing with him, something he understood. You felt tears staining your cheeks, your breath shorten, and your cheeks reddened as you said

"I like you..." In a shaky voice. "I like you a lot. I just didn't think that you'd like me. I'm not tall, I'm loud, I'm- I don't have any qualities that you'd like..."

His face softened as he got closer. He cupped your cheeks and wiped your tears with his thumbs. You continued by saying

"I stumble in my Korean. I'm not even Korean! Why would you like me?"

"Why wouldn't I?" He responded in a soft, slightly hushed voice, taking you by surprise.

"I like that you're extroverted." He continued "If we eat out, I know I can count on you helping me with my social anxiety. So what if you're not tall? I think you'd fit nicely in my arms."

He pulled you into a hug, smiling softly. He then nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck and slowly took in your scent. He leaned back a little.

"I was right." He said smiling gently. "You have other qualities that I like... Like... How excited you get talking about anime and video games is so beautiful to me. Your eyes sparkle, your tone of voice gets higher, your body language gets more expressive, you use your hands more."

He gently pushed a strand of hair away and looked into your eyes while saying "So what if you stumble in your Korean? At least you know Korean! Which is more than I can say when it comes to Spanish."

You chuckled, smiling while wiping your tears.

"And so what if you're not Korean?... I fell in love with YOU, not your nationality or ethnicity"

You gasped softly and looked into his eyes whispering "Love?" He chuckled and nodded then sighed.

"I know it's a big word, but it's how I feel... And I don't wanna leave for the military without telling you how I feel."

You cupped his cheek and studied his face. He has gotten chubbier in the cheeks, his skin paler than usual, and his hair was shorter, probably to prepare it to get cut. You got on your tippy toes slightly and pecked his lips first to see if it was okay. This took him by surprise but it didn't last long for him to hug your waist and kiss you back.

You pulled away and smiled then hugged him. His arms hugged you back as you leaned your head on his right shoulder, sniffling slightly and apologizing for crying, something he dismissed quickly. Your moment was quickly ruined when you and Yoongi almost fell from Jungkook jump-hugging you.

"AY! YA! Don't be stupid!" You said as you pushed Jungkook away. Yoongi already taking the liberty of letting go of you so that you and Jungkook could push each other around.

"You got your love confession! Thanks to ME~ The BEST wingman EVER!" Jungkook exclaimed as he wrapped his tattooed arm around your shoulder and neck. You groaned playfully and pushed him off you, but that didn't stop him from doing it again.

"Say I'm the best, and I'll let you go~" Jungkook said smiling from ear to ear.

"You're the WORST! Estupido, how could you force a confession out of Yoongles!~"

"Hey! He wasn't planning on doing it, and you were all mopy. I had to do something!"

You sighed and hugged him, burying your face in his chest, and said in a mumbled voice

"You're the best..." which came out in a slightly muffled sound.

"AH! Did you hear that, hyung?! THE. BEST! I gotta tell Jimin!" Jungkook said as he pushed you off of him and took off his phone.

You and Yoongi looked at each other and smiled. Promising to talk to each other more in his apartment.

63 notes · View notes

chrisevansredbelt · 2 years

Text

Small World

pairing: steve rogers x reader

warnings: angst. a bit of arguing. mention of the 2016 paris attack. reader being kind of lonely. i guess civil war and ultron spoilers hahahah hopefully everyone has already seen the films tho... but just in case. tbh… maybe a smidgen of like size kink hahahahhaha i’m such a whore. mention of torture, mentions of hydra.

summary: the arrival.

wk: 5.8k

a/n: ahhhhhh, one of the three series im focusing on! probably my fav tbh 😍... bit of a spoiler... some proper steve smut

i have also twisted SOME parts and some canon parts of the original storyline! so if there’s something like chronologically wrong then just close ur eyes xx it’s probably just a hallucination

series masterlist here!

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*･ﾟ☆

Your heart drops a little as the echo of the knock sounds throughout your house. Until you remember you’re safe. You’re far away and safe and no one bad would ever find you here.

You quickly realise that it’s also Sunday morning and it was probably just the milkman reminding you yet again to put your bottles out. You always forgot. But he was nice about it.

Grabbing your empty milk glasses from their upside down place on the drying rack, you hold them cautiously as you near the front door.

You don’t even hesitate pulling the front door wide open- assuming it actually was the milkman and that he was on a time crunch and you were only slowing him down.

Which was why, when you were in fact not met with the milkman and rather four nervous faces… you froze in your spot.

Your eyes immediately land on one particular face in your effort to scan all of them. Steve.

You were surprised you even recognised him that quick. He looked so different. Different from when you last saw him anyway. He had a beard and his hair was much longer. He looked bigger too, more muscular. He looked nice.

You quickly realise you’re staring and move on to the next person- however quite literally gasp in fear as you recognise the woman.

You drop one milk bottle and step backwards, shielding yourself with the door and uncaring to the glass bottle that rolls to their feet.

“It’s okay!” Sam holds his hands out, grabbing the bottle that rolled to his feet. You look from her to him to Steve and back to him with hesitant eyes, “She’s good now. She’s with us.”

You eye her from behind the door. Well… if she wanted to kill you- or any of them, she would’ve done so by now. Your first initial thought was that she was a hostage, but she looked pretty close to Steve. Maybe… maybe they’re together?

As you widen up the door again and take the bottle from Sam’s extended hand, you look down in embarrassment, avoiding Steve and Wanda’s eyes the best you can.

“We’re sorry to turn up so unannounced, but it’s an emergency.” Sam starts. Your eyes flicker up to his when he says the word ‘emergency’. What kind of emergency? Are they safe? Is someone after them? Is someone after me? So many questions, “Can we please come in?” He asks tentatively with pleading eyes.

You obviously weren’t aware of much. But with the way Sam was begging with his eyes, Natasha keeping quiet and seemingly alert and Steve sporting a full beard, you assumed something wasn’t right and they needed some kind of help.

You nod almost immediately, “Y-Yeah, of course.” Though your voice doesn’t sound so confident as you step to the side and let them in to your home. Heavy, dirty boots litter your wooden floor but you don’t find it in you to care that much. Once Steve- who was at the back of the pack, enters, you shut the door behind them and lock it for safe measures, before turning back to them and asking, “How did you guys even find me?”

You try not to acknowledge the close proximity to Steve now as you look among the group.

“Oh, uh- we…” Sam stutters, glancing at the others and you guess, silently debating whether to tell the truth or lie… he decides on the truth, “We followed you- from the market,” You furrow your brows curiously, prompting him to continue, “We were staying in that abandoned house near the town and Natasha said she saw you so we followed your car.”

You weren’t mad or freaked out by any means. It was actually kind of funny to think about, “Small world.” You hum. Of all the places they could’ve stayed, they’re in your home town? A bunch of farmland and cottages in the middle of nowhere? “Is everything okay? Why are you staying in abandoned houses?”

They all look to each other with semi-furrowed brows, before Sam is speaking again, “I’m guessing you haven’t been watching the news.”

You blink at him, glancing to your TV through the doorway that leads to your living room area, “No, I-“ They follow your gaze to the tiny box of a TV. It is literally encased in a wooden box- they would all be surprised if it even worked, “It was left here by the last owner.” You explain, fiddling with your fingers- also a little embarrassed by it all of a sudden as they look to you with raised brows, “But it only plays old, black and white French movies and France news... So, unless you had something to do with the attack then-“

Sam shakes his head. Not that you actually thought that they did- well, you really didn’t know what to think. The last time you saw all of them was in Iowa. Speaking of, where are the others?

There’s a thick, almost confused silence in the air as you continue to look up at them all unknowingly. You really had no idea. Not only had you cut yourself off from the team... you had cut yourself off from the entire world.

“We uh-“ Steve starts and you’re a little embarassed by how quick you are to turn to look at him now. It was the first time he’d spoken since he got here- and the first time he’s spoken to you in years. You missed his voice... it sounded deeper, “We’re on the run.” He briefly explains and you open your mouth a little, “Natasha and I broke the others out of prison and now we’re all fugitives.”

You look to Natasha, then to Sam and Wanda, before back to Steve, “Prison?”

“We better sit down for this,” Sam sighs.

And so, you take them further into your house so you’re not all lingered in the foyer. You sat them all down in your large kitchen, letting them take their bags off and giving them all a cup of either ice water or orange juice.

Once everyone was settled, you took a seat at the dinner table, waiting for them to start.

They told you everything. Everything you had missed after you had left New York and effectively shut yourself off from the rest of the world.

The whole civil war between Steve and Tony, Zemo, the Sokovian accords, Vienna, how Wanda joined them, Bucky, Clint and some Scott guy who’s an ant? The Siberian facility. The raft? Steve and Bucky going to Wakanda and only Steve coming back. Then joining with Sam, Nat and Wanda on the run as fugitives.

“And that leads us to now.” Sam finalises, taking a much needed drink of his water that had condensed all over his coaster.

There’s a comfortable silence as everyone allows you to take in all this new information. You hadn’t asked a single question or barely even spoke a word except for your incessant nodding to show that you were following along.

Once you’ve pieced together all of the events in your head, you inhale, “Good thing I left when I did.” Is all you thought of to say.

It works to lighten the mood a little as everyone smiles softly. Well, Steve small smile lasts about a millisecond before he’s frowning, memories and emotions hitting him like a truck as he’s reminded of your lack of presence during it all.

It’s silent again, but this time a bit of a collective, nervous silence. But you know how to fix it. Now that you know why they’re here.

“You can all stay here for as long as you need.” You nod. They all seem to deflate. In a good way! Relax. You could literally see it if you looked around the table, their muscles weren’t so tensed, their jaws weren’t locked and their senses weren’t so alert.

“Thank you.” Sam rubs your arm and you nod with a small smile.

The company would be nice. Perhaps you needed this more than they did.

And so, you help them settle in to your home. You had a heap of spare bedrooms, however, they were filled with clutter, coated with dust and cobwebs so they weren’t exactly usable. But it was okay, apparently, they figured if they slept in the living room on mattresses, it would make a quick getaway if they needed to. And if they’ve learnt anything about being on the run, its to stick together.

Which is why they’re helping you take out all the mattresses you can find and bringing them downstairs to the living room. The living room is also, probably the biggest room in the house- the study room a close second, but it too is littered with clutter and books and large oil paintings left by the last owner.

While the others move your furniture around to make extra space for their beds, you’re in the laundry room finding enough bedsheets and blankets to keep them all warm. And Wanda was kind enough to give you a hand.

“I’m sorry I gave you a fright.” She says as stacks a few piles of sheets into a washing basket with wheels.

You shake your head, folding a large blanket to top the pile, “No, I’m sorry for reacting like that.” You apologise, extremely embarrassed for 1. being so dramatic and 2. probably humiliating her and making her feel like a threat to you, “Just- the last time I saw you you were…” You trail off, not wanting to come off offensive in anyway and eventually just shaking your head again and holding out your hand, “Start over?”

She smiles down at your hand before shaking it with her own, “I’m Wanda.”

“Y/N.” You laugh softly, glad she matched your energy.

“Thank you for your hospitality, by the way.” She says as she grabs a blanket to fold and add to the pile, “You didn’t even know me and you barely hesitated.”

You just shrug, “It’s actually really nice to have some company.”

It’s also really nice to see Steve again. He was yet to talk to you one-on-one. He hardly looked at you. There weren’t enough mattresses so he was taking the pull out couch in the study room. He didn’t mind at all, and the study room was right across from the living room so they weren’t entirely split up.

You would have gladly offered him the spot next to you in your bed- No. No.

You aren’t together anymore. He didn’t love you like he loved him. He probably likes Wanda now.

“Oh-” Wanda squeaks, breaking you out of your thoughts. You stare at her worriedly, waiting for her to finish what she was saying or say what was wrong... But she stops herself and just offers you an uneasy smile, “These sheets smell like my old house.” She quickly lies.

“Oh,” You smile, bringing up the sheets to your noise and slightly grimacing at the strange smell, “Yeah, I bet. This place is so old.” She just laughs, thankful you didn't catch on to her as you finish folding one last blanket.

Alright, a blanket and sheet for everyone. Now to find some pillows.

You shut the fridge with your hip, both hands occupied with the two cans of soda in your hands.

Heading towards the back door, you nudge it open, catching the attention of Sam who has found the comfortable spot of your red and white striped swing chair.

You smile at him warmly, holding up the two cans of soda before plopping down next to him on the chair- making the chair swing even harder for a moment and Sam snickers.

He takes the can from your hand gratefully and cracks it open. You pull your feet up and get comfortable, resting your muscles after running around the house for the past few hours making sure everyone had everything they needed.

You sigh once you’re comfortable enough and lean against Sam’s big shoulder.

“Nice place.” He breaks the silence and you snort, rolling your eyes.

“It’s rundown, I know.” Your house definitely wasn’t a five star hotel. It needed a lot of work, it creaked, it flickered, it leaked. But it was home.

It was warm, quiet and big. What more could you really ask for? Maybe a few friends or family. A dog even.

“No, it’s nice. Adds to the character.” He beams, “It’s bigger than Clint’s house.”

Your heart pangs a little as you look over the horizon at the setting sun, “I wouldn’t know.”

It’s only then that Sam realises what he’s said. What that place meant for you- the memories it brought back- or lack thereof.

He looks over at you and purses his lips, “Sorry.”

You just shake your head, “No, it’s okay.” You look down at your soda can, “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I should’ve said something-“

“It wouldn’t have mattered. He wouldn’t have listened.” You curse yourself for lashing out a little, your anger… resentment evident in your tone.

But Sam understands. That was the best part about Sam. He understood.

He lets you cool off by staying silent, letting you sort out your thoughts and emotions. Once you take a sip from your can, he knows you’re okay again.

“You should talk to him.” He suggests tentatively. You turn tk him with a raised brow and an expression that doesn’t know whether he’s joking or not, “I know he wants to talk to you.”

You scoff, looking down at your toes, “Isn’t he dating Wanda?”

“What? No-“ Sam is quick to shut down your allegation, “No, they’re just- he-“ He looks behind you, over to the large, opened window that leads to the living room where- sure enough! Wanda and Steve are sitting side by side talking. You turn back around to Sam with a quirked brow, “They’re not together.” You raise your brow higher- genuine concern as to whether he saw what you just saw in that window, “They’re just good friends.”

You look back over at the window and stare shamelessly at the two. Steve talks to her- it looks like something important and she listens intently. That used to be you- until he stopped talking to you. Wanda nudges his side and he smiles brightly for the first time that day- the first time you’ve seen his smile for a long, long time. As Wanda turns to look out the window, you whip back around and slump in your spot on the chair, “I-I don’t even know what to say.”

Sam hums, “Maybe you don’t have to say anything to make up.” He looks down at you and wiggles his brows.

“You wanna sleep outside?”

“Alright, alright.” He throws his hands up in defeat. But still, you can’t help the small smile that grows on your face. If you were asked, you couldn’t give an exact reason as to why you were smiling. It just felt nice. You felt normal again. Like you had dreamed the last year and a half of your life and everything was actually all okay and you hadn’t run away from all your friends.

“Showers all yours, Wan,” Natasha emerges from down the large staircase, hair still dripping wet as she towel dries it in one of the fluffy towels Y/N had let them use.

Wanda beams at the thought of a nice, hot shower and smiles softly at Steve before heading up the stairs. As Natasha heads for the kitchen, Steve is left alone in the living room.

Leaning his back against the window, he shuts his eyes momentarily, basking in the comfort of peace and… serenity. Of course, he’s still on edge- on edge that they’ll find them here and possibly even hurt you in the process. But for now, they’re safe.

Upon hearing the familiar sound of your hearty laugh outside, he whips his head around to glance outside the window. He sees you and Sam, sitting on some swing chair as you both watch the sun go down.

Steve just purses his lips, wishing it was him sitting next to you, watching the evening turn into night, drinking whatever overly sweet, sugary soda you’d give him.

He would never admit it to you, but the raspberry fanta was always his favourite- no matter how much you joked about how the only reason he didn’t like it was because it would probably give him a heart attack.

And maybe he was just being… hopeful, maybe it was all in his head, but Wanda asking him so many questions about you made him curious. What did she know that he didn’t? What did she want to know so bad? What kind of puzzle was she piecing together?

Ah, it was probably all in his head.

You try not to let your head swell too big with the sight before you. The whole, family, last supper feast you had cooked for your visitors was being absolutely demolished.

There was a point where the table had gone completely silent because everyone was just so… focused on eating and filling their seemingly empty stomachs.

I mean, you knew they were on the run, but you didn’t think they were nomadic! You thought surely they were able to buy the foods they needed in order to stay… alive!

Sam is the first to put down his knife and fork, leaning back in his chair as it creaks and place his hands over his bloated stomach, “I can’t remember the last time I had a home cooked meal.”

Natasha seconds Sam with a hum, mouth full of food and you giggle.

“I can’t remember the last time I ate with company,” You counter, sipping on your drink.

Most nights you quite literally would eat dinner at the table all alone. Maybe you’d have a crossword in front of you or a book or a puzzle. The one off chances you felt like watching some French TV you would sit in the living room until you got bored and went back to your book.

You did a lot of reading. Surprisingly, the last owner also had a lot of books- in English too, thank God. Many of them were classics you had never read before either: Little Women, Alice in Wonderland, Moby Dick, Pride and Prejudice.

It sounds unrealistic, you knew that. If you had been told years ago that that’s how you would be spending possibly the rest of your life, you probably would’ve laughed.

But it wasn’t all bad. If you weren’t reading, you were gardening, if you weren’t gardening you were cooking, if you weren’t cooking you were napping, if you weren’t napping you were cleaning, if you weren’t cleaning you were reading. Simple as that really.

A weekly trip to the market, a one-off interaction with the milk man if you forgot to put your bottles out and a wave to the postman. That was it.

You watched, one by one, as they all leaned back in their creaky wooden chairs, bloated beyond belief and plates practically licked clean.

Then, as they finally took sips of their beers and wines, that was when things got interesting. Sam was definitely the loudest, to which Natasha wittily countered… to which spring out an argument about who was the loudest out of the two.

You just laughed with the rest as you collected everyone’s plates for washing up.

As soon as Steve saw, however, he had abruptly stood from his chair, the legs screeching against your floorboards. He then started picking up the plates in the middle of the table, helping you out.

You smiled softly at him but kept your head down the rest of the way through.

He followed behind you as you entered the kitchen and placed the plates into the sink. He followed suit, placing his pile next to yours. As you turn on the sink, you both reach for the dish sponge and he grabs it before you can and you look up at him curiously, “I got it.”

God, he’s so tall. Was he always so tall? You literally have to crane your neck up to look at him. His beard is nice.

When you realise you’re staring, you panic. You really hoped he didn’t notice or, if he did notice, that he wouldn’t be so weirded out by it. So all you do is just nod with a soft, grateful smile and a small, “Thank you.”

God, why was that so painful?

Turning off all of the unused lights and doing your ritual rounds of ensuring all the doors and windows were sealed and locked, you returned to the living room where everyone was settling into their mattresses.

You had profusely apologised for not having a TV, figuring they could probably use a bit of entertainment. But they assured you it was okay and that your multitude of board games and puzzles were enough. Steve and Wanda sit in the corner of the room, where her bed is by the window- they’re playing Uno. And Sam and Natasha are by the fireplace solving arguing over a puzzle.

“Is everyone warm enough?” You ask tiredly, scanning the room and almost giggling at how reminiscent this all was. It looked like one big sleepover- well it was. They all give you verbal and non-verbal confirmations, along with small thank you’s. You stifle a yawn to smile softly at them all, “Goodnight.” You bid to them as you begin climbing up the stairs.

You’re surprised how tired you are- in a sense that, you feel like you should be way more tired. You quite literally just took on the role of a mother, preparing beds, cooking, cleaning. You usually took a nap on Sunday’s, but obviously today you didn’t. Yet, you still felt as tired as normal. Strange.

Either way, you know that a few minutes after your head hits the pillow, you’ll drift asleep, so there’s not much complaining.

You showered after dinner, after everyone else had showered before you. You were a little disappointed with the little amount of hot water left but you made do. These guys probably haven’t had a nice, hot shower in months, it was what they needed more than you. Besides, lukewarm water still got the job done.

So, all you needed to do to go to bed was to brush your teeth and moisturise. You were almost running out of toothpaste after everyone had borrowed some. You made a mental note to go on a shopping spree tomorrow and stock up on everything. You’d probably have to go into town, town. Like not to the market with all the homemade stuff- but the big supermarket they had recently built. That way you wouldn’t look so suspicious buying your seemingly end of world supplies.

As you finish with the bathroom, you turn off the light- in the process, colliding with a hard chest and almost- almost having a genuine heart attack.

“Jesus, Steve-“ You don’t know how you knew it was Steve before you even looked up at the chest you had made contact with. But you guessed having slept on the very chest every night for two years might’ve helped.

He holds both of your arms so you don’t stumble backwards, and you’re extremely close to him as he practically holds you against his chest. Your hand that flew over your heart slowly feeling your heart rate go back down.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologises and loosens his grip on your arms when you not-so-subtly eye his hands. But you internally frown at the lack of contact.

Swallowing thickly, you wave a hand, “It’s- It’s fine.” You quickly assure him, “Are you okay? What do you need?”

He sighs, hoping you would’ve known exactly why he was standing right in front of you, “I just wanted to talk.”

You lead him into your room after rationalising that standing in the hallway, so close to the stairs where the others could hear probably wouldn’t have been the best idea. Also, your legs were very tired and you couldn’t bare the thought of standing for another second.

As you enter your room and switch on the light, Steve takes a moment to take it all in.

He had only told Wanda this, not wanting to give Sam the satisfaction of being right after being teased the whole day that your house was like a time machine for him. It looked like something straight out of the 40’s. The TV, the piano, the goddamn milk bottles.

Stepping into your bedroom, it made Steve feel like… Made him feel like it was the 40’s… and he finally did get the luck of finding a girl who loved him enough to let him into her house after meeting her parents.

And maybe that’s why you chose it. Maybe you thought it would bring Steve back to you- or someone like Steve.

He quickly shakes those thoughts off as the sound of you pulling the curtains shut rip through the room.

“Thanks for letting us stay. Really, I- I don’t know what we would do without you.” He starts off, totally off topic from what he wants to talk about but he figures he’s the last person of the group to have thanked you… and it’s an icebreaker.

You avoid eye contact, laughing softly as you undo your neat bed, “I’ll be honest, if it wasn’t for the beard, I don’t know if I would’ve believed you guys.” You joke and Steve feels a tense weight lifted off his shoulders at your playfulness. Okay, you’re joking around- maybe this won’t be as awkward as he imagined.

He smiles and brings his hand up to his jaw, stroking his beard, “You don’t like it?”

You squint your eyes at him, tilting your head, “It’s very…” You choose you word carefully, “Nomadic.” Steve doesn’t know whether to take that as an insult or a compliment… but it is the truth, “It’s neat, I’ll give you that. I can buy some razors tomorrow when I go shopping if you like?”

“I don’t know, I think I might keep it.” He says, still rubbing his beard. He liked the beard. He felt like a different person with it. It was very fitting, he was no longer the clean-shaven, star spangled icon. He was the fugitive, on the run from the law. You just nod, opting to sit at the edge of your bed, in front of Steve now, “Thank you, though.” He says again, “Really, Y/N, I can’t thank you enough for all you’re doing for us.”

You just shrug. No matter how many times you had been thanked today, you still had no clue what the proper response was, “The company is nice.” You nod. There’s a silence then and you hate it and opt to fill it immediately, “Is this all you wanted to talk to me about?”

You hoped that didn’t come off so rude. You were just genuinely curious. And if that really was all he wanted to talk about, you would be fine with it! It’s nice to talk. But you know there’s much more that you need to be talking about with Steve-

“Why did you leave?” He asks, arms now crossed over his chest as he leans against your chest of drawers across from you.

You furrow your brows, looking at him incredulously as you replay the question in your head, but come up short with what exactly he’s talking about, “What?” You ask, the tone and the ambience between you two having totally shifted now, “Why did I leave?” You ask again, and Steve remains in nodding, like nothing he had said was factually incorrect. You take a moment to fully comprehend what he’s asking, or if he’s pulling your leg. Anger bottles up inside you and you know it’s not long before it overflows, “You… forced me to leave. You left me-”

“But you still left Manhattan… after Ultron.” He cuts you off. God, you hated when he did that.

“Because I would’ve died if I stayed, waiting for you.” You raise your voice a little now and Steve dips his head down, though he’s a little confused as to how you would’ve died? “But even if I stayed in Manhattan, I wouldn’t have been waiting for you, because you were done with me before we even went to Iowa.” The subconscious, more kinder part of you that’s getting overpowered by your anger is cursing you for being so… hurtful. You can see in Steve’s face that you’re hurting him… but that anger inside you is glad. Hurt him like he hurt you! “Because when she made you see things and tried to hurt you in the worst way possible, it had nothing to do with me.” You know he knows who you’re talking about. Wanda. Scarlet witch. If this was any other circumstance you would’ve referred to her as a much more horrible name. Steve grimaces at the memory of it all. Fighting Wanda, what she made him see… “You saw Peggy and forgot all about me.” Steve lifts his head at the quiver of your voice and his heart shatters at the glossiness of your eyes.

This wasn’t how this talk was supposed to go. Wanda told him the things to say and he went off track.

“Y/N-“

“No, you shut me out. You wouldn’t even look at me… Like it was my fault that she-“ You cut yourself off before you can say something you can’t come back from- if possible. A tear escapes you and you’re quick to wipe it away. No- he can’t see your weakness, “And when we flew back home, when we got to Iowa, you stopped me from getting off that jet.” You point at him, “You sent me back to New York and I left to stay alive, because I-“ You cut yourself off yet again, realising you had slipped up.

You blink at Steve, mouth opening and closing as you watch him relay your words, “Because what?” He asks, standing away from the dresser now to get closer to you.

“Nothing.” You whisper, eyes trained to the ground so he wouldn’t catch your bluff, “Because I was an avenger, public enemy-“

“No, you said you could’ve died.”

“Yeah, a lot of people wanted us to pay, Steve-“

“They wouldn’t have killed you.” He rolls his eyes, getting a little annoyed now at whatever it is you’re hiding from him, “You’re hiding something from me.”

“I’m not.”

“You are!” Steve raises his own voice now, “You are. Or else you’re admitting to leaving solely because you wanted to and no one was forcing you.” You look up at him, staring daggers. He knew how to get under your skin and get you to talk, you’ll give him that.

You stand from your spot on the bed, pointing mercilessly up at him, “When you sent me back, you put a fucking bounty on my head!” You heave, “HYDRA showed up at my shitty apartment and tortured me into where you were and where the scepter was.” You finally reveal and you hate how much of a weight it is lifted off your shoulders to finally tell someone. “Don’t worry, I didn’t tell them anything. I’m not as vengeful as some people.”

Steve let’s the insult fly over his head, more concerned over the fact that… if you didn’t tell them… what did they do to you?

Since the day it happened, you had kept your mouth shut and moved as far away as you could. You didn’t even talk to police. You didn’t even go to the hospital. You painfully stitched up the stab wound yourself and turned the burned skin of an H on your back into a window. Of course, that required you to burn yourself even more, but with a rag in your mouth and loud music to cover the screams, it was over with much faster than you’d thought.

You still have nightmares about it. Dreams and sometimes even visions of Rumlow. In the first few weeks that you’d bought the house, you were weary of the milkman. You thought it was some sort of trick, that one day Brock would show up in the outfit and kill you.

But the day never came. And you quickly realised they probably didn’t care about you that much anymore. You weren’t worth the hassle of killing and Captain America clearly didn’t care for you as much as they thought- so killing you wouldn’t matter to anyone except for yourself… and what were you to them?

“What did they do-“

“It doesn’t matter.” You shake your head, attempting to wipe the flow of tears that stream down your face.

Steve doesn’t know what else to say. He feels like… like a failure. He failed to protect you- not only as your boyfriend, but as your Captain. When he stopped you from getting off the jet, he ignored Tony’s advice to stick together. He put you in danger simply because he was too emotional to make a rational decision.

You could’ve died because of him.

And here he is, in your house. You grant him safety, food, water, hot water, a bed and a roof over his head after everything he’s done to you? And now he’s in your room, after you’ve quite literally slashed away for them all, and he’s making you remember all the horrible things that he caused in your life.

You swallow and then inhale quickly, before taking a seat on your side of the bed, refusing to even look in his direction- let alone at him, “I think… you should go back downstairs.”

Steve doesn’t immediately move. He knows he should fix it, he knows he should stay and admit his wrongs and do everything in his power to make things right again. But he also knows you clearly need space.

Though his heart tells him to stay and comfort you, his body knows it’s best to just do what you say and leave you alone.

He leaves your room, shutting the door behind him and sighing heavily.

He needs a moment to collect himself, replaying everything you had said and piecing together the pieces.

However, when his heightened senses pick up the faint sound of you sobbing behind the door, he can’t bare to listen to what he’s so evidently caused and walks away.

As he reaches the staircase, in the darkness he spots all three of his friends huddled on the last step, offering him timid smiles. Wanda in particular looks a little more empathetic.

Steve mostly ignores them as he walks down the stairs and tells them goodnight as he hurries off into his seperate sleeping area in the study room on the pullout couch.

He really hated himself right about now.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*･ﾟ☆

series masterlist here, next chapter

EOWWWWWW i am so excited for this.

idk if u can tell i’m like such a sucker for steve angst

i hope you enjoyed the first chapter of this series!!! 🫶

#steve rogers x you #steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers series #steve rogers imagine

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the-badger-mole · 5 months

Note

You are so real for deciding to avoid Netflix's ATLA live adaptation. I was on Twitter earlier and what's been coming out is starting to discourage some of the fans lol. Like, they're removing moments that were part of the character's growth arc, like Sokka's sexism, and gender issues which is part of what drives Katara's arc and was a big part of the NWT and why Katara fought Pakku and seemingly more, like Aang's constant decisions to run off and have "adventures" even when he shouldn't

Yeah...I've been having this conversation with other fans. I'm not thrilled with what they seem to be taking out of the story arcs, but at the same time, I also strongly agree that an adaptation should build on and change things from the original to justify its existence. Heck, I applaud them for not trying to make this a shot-for-shot remake (stares at Disney) I get that the show runners and actors also probably can't reveal any new or expanded on flaws because of spoilers. So, while I'm rolling my eyes at the whispers that they're taking away things like Sokka's sexism arc because it was "problematic", and getting rid of Aang's irresponsible sense of adventure instead of actually addressing why it's an issue, I'm keeping my fingers crossed for the people looking forward to the series that they have some even better storylines planned.

None of the changes are why I'm not planning to watch (though they aren't making me regret my choice). My reasons for not watching are more personal than I'm worried they're going to ruin the original series (first of all, the original series still exists and I can still watch it. Second, the original series had major flaws and plot holes of its own). I'm just not interested in live action remakes. I have a finite capacity to engage in new shows, and a live action remake of a fantasy cartoon I loved as a kid is not high on the list. You can blame Disney, if you want (and you wouldn't be totally wrong. The Disney Live Actions have been stupid wastes of my time. Yes, even your favorite remake), but if I'm going to start a new show, I want it to either be something fresh and new, or a series I've seen enough times to quote whole episodes. Yes, my most of my new faves have been cancelled in the last year (I'm still holding my breath for We Are Lady Parts and the next season of Abbot Elementary), but I'm still in the head space of preferring either something new or just plain old reruns to watch.

None of my feelings are an indictment of what I expect from LA ATLA. I encourage anyone who's even remotely interested to watch. And when you do, please post your thoughts. I, personally, will be lurking to see what people think. Who knows. Maybe someone will change my mind, and I will end up watching after all.

#atla #zutara #atla live action #la atla

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al-andrice · 1 year

Text

Future Days

Spoilers for TLOU PART I & II

Series: Hymn for the Weekend

Joel Miller x Female Reader

(Edited on 12/06/23)

Abstract: Joel and Ellie settle into Jackson with the help from you - a great shot, smart and reliable (according to Maria).

Contents: Reader has she/her pronouns, former counsellor, second person, Ellie's got jokes, maybe a little teeny bit of pining but we like a friends to lovers in this household, Joel smiles!

Rating: Teen

WC: 1.6K

Listen to Future Days by Joel Miller

Author's notes: Here I am, back with the writing bug. It's been a long time since I've wanted to write something. As TLOU has dominated my whole life with the games that I've loved for years and the HBO series, it's no surprise that I have a whole fantasy in my head that I needed to write fanfiction about.

Hope you guys enjoy reading this! Please do comment and reblog, anything that helps to get this around.

Troy singing Future Days always gets me in the feels. If Pedro ends up singing...I am DONE (unless he sings La Bamba LMAO). Or if Bella sings Take On Me...TEARS. I love listening to the Part II covers.

not to be thirsty on here, but praise naughty dog for making joel miller so...mmmm yeah. i wanna marry this man. even pedro says he's hot

GIF by vera-kozhemiakina

Everything I've found here, I've not found by myself.

Winter was coming which meant heavy snow and slower starts to days with the later sunrise and the numbing morning air. Jackson had started preparations for it - checking that its residents had everything to keep warm in their homes, protecting the allotments and making any repairs to maintain buildings.

Sweeping through the long patrol routes was the biggest task. Maria had to be sure that the people assigned to them could handle potential Infected and any people they may meet on the way. Past encounters have mostly gone smoothly, with trading links made between communities, like Jackson, and also helping any travellers who just needed a good night of sleep and food in their system, setting off the next morning. This was something that the residents of Jackson were incredibly grateful for - to be able to say that they were safe and had warm beds to greet every night, as well as being able to provide aid and supplies to people who come through was a privilege.

The few not-so-pleasant meetings with bandits ended with minor injuries and increased security at the power plant as a precaution.

Joel and Ellie settled in as well as they could after the hell of a journey they completed. You lived a road away from their new home, so you had seen them integrate into the community and get used to living instead of surviving.

Maria was the one responsible for your first interaction with Joel, who was getting to know the different patrol routes on the map. "She's one of our best. A great shot, smart, reliable. Expect to be on patrol with her if Tommy isn't around. She's a busy woman in this town."

"Wow." You leaned forward onto the desk of her office with your hands. "A great shot, smart and reliable? You flatter me, Maria," you joked with a smirk on your face.

That was the first time you had seen Joel Miller smile. Even if it may have been a small one.

In the few months since the older Miller brother and the 14 year-old had arrived, you've had the opportunity to introduce (and re-introduce to the man) the different parts of the town to them.

"Woah, you have art classes? FEDRA school was never like this." Ellie wandered around the empty classroom that was decorated with paintings and drawings made by the young Jackson residents. Her fingers trailed along the row of paintbrushes and stained palettes.

"If you want, we can enrol you in some of the classes? I know you said that you wanted to take up patrols, but you're still young. We've even got Spanish. Try bilingualism to stimulate that brain of yours," you suggested.

You would never forget the way she looked up to you with widened eyes and an excited smile. "Really?" You nodded. "Didn't you say you teach a class, too? Maybe I could join yours as well?"

You sat on a desk with a warmed heart for the kid who wanted to go to school and learn. "I teach some psychology. Not that it means anything now, but there was blood, sweat and tears working for my PhD and training, so I might as well put it to good use to fill in the time and help anyone who wants it."

"What's a PhD?" Ellie asked in confusion.

You chuckled to yourself and started to explain. "It's basically a way to get people to call you Doctor."

Then, Ellie took her chance.

"Why is a doctor always calm?" She asked with her legs swinging back and forth under the table she was sitting on.

You shrugged.

A smirk found its way to her lips. "Because they have a lot of patients."

Joel was standing a few feet away from the door, taking in the sounds of laughter before calling out for the jokester.

Your house was one of the smaller ones on your road; just enough for one person. I'm just lucky to even have a home. Only a short walk away from Joel and Ellie's, you hugged a small pile of books to your chest and with a bag hung from your shoulder, dressed in a well-worn pair of jeans and a thick jumper.

The house came into view at the end of the street. It was not unusual to find yourself walking up the steps to their front door to bring Ellie some things that you thought she might like.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked. Footsteps thumped through the door, the locks were undone and the man of the house greeted you. "Hey." He widened the opening as an invite into the home. "Lookin' for Ellie, Santa Claus?" He eyed the the books and the bag you were holding.

"I am, yes." You stepped inside and pushed the door closed with your shoulder. "As you can see, she's made it onto the nice list and is owed a lot of presents." He started to lead you through the hallway and the kitchen where the backdoor led to the garden where Ellie lived in her converted garage.

"Know anything 'bout me being on that list?" He sent a teasing grin over his shoulder and stepped out into the grassy area.

(That was a loaded question.)

"Oh, Joel Miller, wouldn't you like to know? Too impatient to wait for December, are we?" An eyebrow raised at him.

"No, I'm patient." Just as he was about to call Ellie's name, he faced you. "When I need to be."

"Woah!" Ellie inspected the orange glowing lamp in her hands. "It looks kind of like a rocket."

"Yeah, that's why I brought it over. Thought you'd like it," you said while she made rocket launching sounds and waved it around. "And to go with your journey to the stars," you placed the books on her coffee table, "these are photos from the NASA Archive."

Her eyes widened and she instantly started to flick through the pages without another word except 'look' when she tilted the pages towards you, completely mesmerised by what had been discovered.

Joel, who was sitting on the couch beside you, hadn't said anything since you showed her the lava lamp. Looking over your shoulder, you glanced at him. Shoulders and eyebrows relaxed, no tension shown.

He looked...content, as if he just had a day off work and stayed at home.

Then, his eyes met yours. A small smile of gratitude was sent to you before you both went back to watching Ellie get excited at all her new gifts.

This is what I saved her for.

When you and Joel finally left Ellie's garage, the sun was setting which left a warm filter on everything within its reach. She was left marvelling over her newly acquired 'space hub' as she called it - a new poster of Neil Armstrong on her wall, a collection of books that were not in the FEDRA school library and an 'alien spaceship' as a lamp.

"Thank you for doing this for her." His hands were stuffed in his pockets while the two of you stood by the gate that you would eventually walk out of to go home. "You didn't have to. Here, she gets to be a kid an’-"

"I know, and I wanted to." Letting out an exhale, you decided to just lay everything out. "Look, Ellie's so young and has been through so much shit. Definitely more than what we experienced her age. Death and survivor's guilt come by so easily now, and I do what I can to help people cope with it whenever they ask." Joel dipped his head down and leaned his elbow on the wooden fence. "But the children here don't have to face those things because we keep them safe and we have a responsibility to teach them how to be. I like her happy and I also like seeing you happy for her, Joel."

The next thing he knew, he felt your hand's light squeeze on his forearm. "It's a good look on you." Just before you pulled back, he patted and laid his hand on yours (maybe for a second longer than he intended), squeezing back.

"Thank you."

"You say that a lot. Might have to start collecting money from you." He laughed and shook his head.

"Tell me how much and I'll pay it. 'M feeling generous today," he went on. A few seconds of silence fell. "I don't want to keep you out for too long. I'm sure you want to get home soon." He stood up, preparing to unlock the gate for you.

"Yeah." Bringing down the bag from your shoulder, you reached to the bottom and extended the package to him. "I actually did get you something, though." He took it, unwrapping the paper. Guitar strings. "My attic had a load of junk when I moved in and there was some music stuff there, too. I remember Tommy telling me stories of him and his big brother going to see live music-"

"And we'd mess around on the guitars at the end of the shows," he finished. "I haven't touched one since then." His eyes stayed locked on the bag of strings between his fingers.

"I'm pretty sure they have a few in the old music shop." Taking small steps to the gate, Joel followed. "I put all the treasure from my attic in the back room. Go raid it sometime."

"I will," he replied. You both stopped and you turned to him, with a soft grin. "Again, thank you."

You sighed at that. "You're welcome." A few steps out, you faced him. "Again."

Quick shots of his breath lightly hit your face and you looked up at him. "Sun’s setting now, Joel, so I think that’s my cue to get home.”

He nodded. “See you tomorrow, then.”

“See you tomorrow, Joel.”

Unknown to you and the man, who stayed by the gate until you turned the corner, there was a curious set of eyes peeking through the curtains of their little converted garage.

A/N: what did you guys think of this?? tell me if there are any mistakes like spelling, grammar, switching tenses bc i didn't read it properly, etc.

this is the lava lamp that was gifted to Ellie if you just zoom in...

and he got guitar strings from santa!!!! since joel will eventually make his own gee-tars, he can have some strings that may hold sentimental value later.

i am planning to write more on this timeline, but work is piling. it'll be a while before i can really build on hymn for the weekend

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tleeaves · 5 months

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The Fictional Crush Line-Up For 2023 and Beyond

Was going to do this sooner (as in a review on the year based on the new or resurfaced interests I picked up, with aforementioned fictional crushes along the way), but I wanted to collect art for them all too and then I also had to try and remember them all. But here we are. If I'm missing any, I'll either have to edit and or reblog to include them.

See if you can spot any common threads (it may get trickier as the list goes on, just be warned). This goes almost in chronological order. But order does not in any way reflect my level of brainrot and obsession with each.

SPOILERS AHEAD FOR THE FRAGILE THREADS OF POWER, BALDUR'S GATE III, AND ARCANE: LEAGUE OF LEGENDS (SPECIFICALLY REGARDING VIKTOR).

Consider yourself warned.

Victor Vale (Vicious by V.E. Schwab)

Victor and his revenge story are kind of responsible for kick-starting my journey of self-rediscovery these past twelve months, in a strange and roundabout way. He made me want to stick up for myself and what I wanted out of life. Sure, he's extremely morally grey in a concerning way, and yeah, we don't normally encourage revenge, but I found him a comfort at a difficult time. But also, I could totally fix him (no one can and it's no one's responsibility, yet the sentiment is still there). I'm not usually one for blonds (I am a liar) but his cold aesthetic is oddly pleasing. There's nothing I understand more than an awe that rots into resentment and envy while maintaining the same thread of fascination with someone. "Victor Vale was not a fucking sidekick" is just a, mwah, chef's kiss line. Honestly, I have less of a crush on this guy, more of an understanding that I appreciate. Also, I haven't even mentioned the chronic pain implications and canon uses of his powers. But that might be for another time.

Viktor (Arcane: League of Legends)

Another Viktor with chronic illness themes and whose (in LoL lore) regard for a partner in science goes sour over time as they pursue different objectives (not seen in the Netflix series yet, of course, it's too early for glorious evolution). This guy always comes back to rot in my brain, and I cannot wait for season 2 later this year to see what comes of his arc. I'm planning a fanfic involving him, Jayce, and maybe/sort of Jinx, based on a dream I had months ago but still have swirling in the soup that is my consciousness. There is something so pretty about this guy. If I was more confident in my sketching abilities, he'd end up being my muse way too often. Viktor's character to me is kind of a tragedy personified, and I love a good tragedy. Oh, and his voice actor?? Amazing. There's some debate over how authentic he sounds to Eastern Europeans, but the accent aside still, he sounds sooo good. I want to sit in on a lecture where he speaks about literally anything for two hours.

Kell Maresh (A Darker Shade of Magic; The Fragile Threads of Power by V.E. Schwab)

Usually, I don't talk about Kell because of how silly I feel like my crush on him is. I identify with Delilah "Lila" Bard throughout ADSOM and even Threads, so I hate further mentioning how much I actually think about Kell because I'd have to fist fight anyone who said I only relate to her because of Kell when that's not the truth. And yet, there's still enough differences between Lila and I for me to be like "if I had to pick a woman in the Schwabverse..." But also, MAYBE I JUST THINK KELL IS GORGEOUS, OKAY? 🫣 Maybe I like that he starts as a somewhat naive prince who's had things both easy and rough in life (wanting to be loved by the only family you know and not feel like you're only there to protect your adoptive brother whom your parents tried to tell you both was not actually your brother and you should stop treating each other as such is VALID, argue with the wall, also he's the bodyguard and eternal worrier (yes, worrying) for Rhy and he's taken lives way too young). Maybe I like that he fell first and fell hard for Lila (okay, but if we're getting into the nitty-gritty, she did flirt with him first multiple times, but she would never admit to actual feelings), that he's the male love interest without reservations for once, leaving it up to Lila and whether she's open to love for once in a story. And yeah, okay, maybe I like that he's actually some kind of a prince charming, the sort you always secretly dream about, you know? Shut up. I like his stupid magic coat too. He's clever, but occasionally actually unbelievably dumb, he's funny and witty yet he knows when to keep his mouth shut (and is usually the one hauling others out of a scrap because of their own smart mouths), he cares too much about his family, AND DID I MENTION HE ALSO HAS CHRONIC ILLNESS THEMES THAT BROKE MY DAMN CHRONICALLY ILL AND IN PAIN HEART? I've said too much already, but there. He's a guy.

Miguel O'Hara (Spider-Man: Across The SpiderVerse)

This is the one my sister teases me most about because she doesn't get it. To be honest with you all, even I don't know how to explain it. But this guy. Miguel. There is something about him that I just abdkjdjsdv, you know? Is it the tragedy? The moral greyness? The fangs? His insane height? Just his fanon self? The fucking muscles?? I don't know. But I will defend how interesting he is as an antagonist until the cows come home.

Elliott (Stardew Valley)

Oh... boy. Sometimes, I realise I have a type. It's pretty guys who are hopeless romantics that write novels and poetry. Maybe it's just this one guy. But wow, it works on me. I'm writing a fanfic about him because I need to. There's only 400-odd words to it so far. It was not long after I met him in the game that I decided I had to wife him up. I planted that pomegranate tree early, because it's his favourite fruit for those who don't know, and he loves receiving them as a gift. I got ducks so I could give him their stray feathers. I learned how and when to find lobsters and catch crabs because he loves those too. If I'm out of gifts, I go get a coffee for him because every writer needs their sustenance. Literally, by Spring of Year 2, we were married, and I wondered if perhaps I might have been a little too single-mindedly pursuing every one of those cut scenes when I should have been taking it a bit slower and making it less of a mission. Don't know what to tell you, I went crazy. I fully believe in the headcanon that he gets up early just to go through his haircare routine. Is he pretentious? Maybe. Does he lay it on a little too thick that he's scared of dying alone? Well, okay, yes. Does it bother me that as a househusband he doesn't help out more on the farm? Occasionally. But there's also no one else I'd rather be with (and I developed a sprinkler system specifically so there was less work for me anyway and so now I don't mind at all when he isn't helping). And I can't believe my sister ever introduced me to Stardew Valley because I am now mentally ill about a videogame character made of pixels. Yes, I make wine just for him too. Hush. I spoil him daily now that we're married. Our first child is a son named Ernest. I was debating between Ernest and Edgar, and honestly, I think I should have gone with the latter, but I chose the former. All the dialogue from Elliott is so frickin' cute.

Astarion Ancunín (Baldur's Gate III)

And do you know what the worst part about this one is? I still haven't actually played Baldur's Gate III. I know, I KNOW. A crime. I'm working on it. But you best believe I've watched every cutscene I can, every scrap of gameplay dialogue, all the choices, the different endings you can get with him (Ascended breaks my heart every time -- I don't care how hot he is, it's not what he would have wanted, he doesn't love you like he used to anymore, and he's not as happy as he could be), and I've listened to all the interviews with Neil Newbon and the writer for Astarion about him. This fruity traumatised vampire haunts me. I want to hold him gently and caress his face and tell him he's beautiful and what he looks like to me since he hasn't seen his reflection in centuries and I want to make sure he knows he's loved. I want him to bite me and drink my blood too, but that's not as important. Does it weird me out how much he reminds me of Prince Charming from the Shrek franchise and Preminger from Barbie: The Princess and the Pauper and then aesthetically Asra from The Arcana: A Mystic Romance? Yes. But Astarion's also his own character and I'm in love with his smile and goofy lines.

Settrigh "Sett" (Heartsteel; League of Legends)

This... might be the lowest point, actually 💀 My sister would agree. Because it's not enough to crush on book characters, show characters, and videogame characters -- while technically this guy is a videogame character and was part of League of Legends waaay before the music video, it was the PARANOIA music video that got me. So, even fictional characters made/involved in music videos are not safe from my heart. Because, as I understand it, OG Sett is a bit different from Heartsteel Sett, and I've found I usually prefer reading about the interpretation of the latter in fanfic more than the former. I mean, I still really, really enjoy fanfics where he's The Big Boss of the pits, and or his other background/lore is included, but I've read some where his old personality is a bit Yikes. The golden retriever energy is my favourite era of his if we can call it that (I still headcanon him as a part fox Vastayan, you can't convince me otherwise so go argue with someone else about it, not me). And honestly, I think I might have read more fics involving Sett in 2023 than I did any of the other characters on this list. Which is saying something since he's not as popular as a few of them. He's a pretty guy and I wish to bite him. Lovingly.

Mizu (Blue Eye Samurai)

Oh woman. Mizu is... is... she's basically my wife. I know she's all our wife, but like just let me dream a little here. As soon as I finished the series, I was opening up Tumblr, Pinterest, and AO3, my holy trinity of fandom. My platonic wife was sending me TikToks of our shared fictional wife. Mizu can wind up non-binary, male, female, I honestly do not mind because I am in love with any version she is/becomes (for now, I interpret her as a woman in disguise, but if that changes, I'll absolutely change how I refer to Mizu). She is a tragedy wrapped up in revenge because of a rotten love and unfortunate parentage and time period. I want her as much as I want to be her. Also? I go insane over her little smiles and smirks. I LOVE when we got to hear her laugh, even if it was mostly the flashbacks (do not mention Mikio near me; if he wasn't already dead, I would kill him). Also, who doesn't hate their British/white half, ahaha, oh my god, I know mixed ethnicity is a hot topic for people who do not want POC whitewashed in media, and I fully understand that, but I do appreciate seeing parts of myself in mixed characters like the conflict between trying to be more like one side than another. I'll also admit it: she does indeed look hot covered in blood and carrying a sword. I'll see myself out the door. I've been wanting to write a fanfic about her but I'm still stewing over ideas. Mizu is also probably my first truly major crush on a fictional woman (other than my childhood crush on Helga Sinclair from Atlantis: The Lost Empire). Vi from Arcane comes pretty close, but I see too much of myself in her that it gets weird.

We'll do some honourable mentions for characters from The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim since I've gotten into that again.

Brynjolf, Hadvar, and Nazir, I wish I could mod my gameplay so I could marry you. The developers hated their men-loving gamers (I know the women-lovers complain about Serana, but she will never be as heartbreaking as Brynjolf, I don't care if she recognises proposals only to decline them). I mean, Brynjolf is the Tamriel equivalent of Scottish, he calls you "lass/lad", has got a smoothass voice, supports you through so much of the Thieves Guild questline, has a wicked sense of humour, and then when you finish the questline, it's all "sorry, lass. Got important things to do. We'll speak another time" 😭 You can't even recruit him as a follower. He says nothing when you wear an amulet of Mara. I play on a fucking PS4, I can't do mods to marry him or get more dialogue.

(By the way, on my most recent playthrough, Lydia died when I fought the troll on the seven thousand steps, and I am still mad about it. It used to be difficult for Lydia to die, that was why I brought her everywhere, and now I have to become Batman "I work alone". ESPECIALLY after Benor then died on the way up to Paarthurnax. I still can't believe that happened, I should have told him to stay behind and wait for my return.)

Also, every time I play, Derkeethus is so bugged, I can't even rescue him let alone marry the guy, which was disappointing because he seemed nice.

Argis the Bulwark, Vilkas, Farkas, Rayya, Aela the Huntress, and Marcurio, you are all marriageable and live in my heart always. Marcurio was the first I ever married, I think. Three guesses why I chose him (it's the sarcasm, wisecracks, and general sense of humour) (maybe the long hair too). Has anyone noticed how there doesn't seem to be marriageable options among the Khajiit characters?? Why do you think that is? I just checked the Skyrim marriage wiki and this is what it has to say in the trivia: 'There are no Khajiit spouses, however; since the majority of Khajiit in Skyrim are traders or travelers from Elsweyr, they probably have families back home. Additionally, Khajiit characters talk about home a lot, stating how much they miss it and how cold Skyrim is; thus, they probably do not want to marry and settle down in Skyrim.'

Heart-breaking. Oh well.

And that's the end of the line-up. If you read through this, Divines bless your goddamn soul. Psycho-analyse me based on them, I dare you. Or just judge me. I'd like to see either. And if you can find something in common about them all (you don't need to consider the honourable Skyrim mentions), please let me know, because I am personally at a loss.

#victor vale #viktor arcane #kell maresh #miguel o'hara #elliott stardew valley #astarion ancunin #sett heartsteel #mizu blue eye samurai #skyrim characters #these are all just from the past twelve months #the real common thread here might just be mental illness

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lumiidragon · 6 months

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So now that I've seen the last season of the Nine Realms, I can finally give my own personal review on it, and the last seeing as how this was the last season and TNR is officially over.

So needless to say SPOILERS BELOW! PLEASE STOP READING HERE IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE LATEST SEASON AND DON'T WANT SPOILERS!!!

So let me start out on a, sadly poor note with this: this season was super disappointing... The big finale, the end-all, the conclusion to The Nine Realms was...flat. Boring. Pointless. Like, this was actually probably one of the more poorer seasons...

So let's start with The World Serpent (Yeah, I can't spell the other name, so I'll just refer to it as 'The Serpent' for ease. This dragon was honestly a really cool design, but not as a "predator of all dragons and the destroyer of The Hidden World". First off, a top-tier predatory animal that is meant to destroy all dragons and the dragon ecosystem...doesn't make sense. Why would an animal like that exist??? If The Hidden World is supposed to be this perfect dragon paradise, then why is there a dragon that literally goes against this notion. Also, this dragon was literally seen poorly trying to catch a terrible terror in a flock of three that was just casually flying around its face like a cat trying to catch a fly and not doing very good at it. This is the dragon that can supposedly take down any dragon such as a Red Death? A bewilderbeast? Any titan-class dragon? No, I don't think so. The poisonous gas attack it has is powerful, but this dragon just doesn't scream "Destroyer of The Hidden World" to me. Not that a dragon that is destined to destroy the world all the dragons that are damned there forever makes sense anyways, but still. On top of that, this dragon spent most of its time "defeating the Riders" by hitting them with the same amount of power any other dragon enemy has and then just taking off. That was pretty much it. It hit once or twice then ran away. The series literally only made this thing to be "unbeatable" because they made the Riders' dragons have 2 HP per battle and have the bad guy dip afterward, thus drawing this out through the entirety of the season. This dragon wasn't powerful, it was long-winded. Finally, the final battle was so.......boring? The group brought in an "Army Of Dragons" to defeat this thing, which would have been cool if it weren't for the fact that they basically just brought one or two dragons a piece. That's not an army and if a handful of common dragons with two special bosses (the Faultripper and the Sky Torcher) is all that it took to beat this thing, then this dragon was never the ultimate dragon destroyer the legends made it out to be. I could really go more into how The Serpant and the battles with it were pointless, boring, and just anti-climatic, but this section has gotten long enough, so I'll leave it at this.

Next up, Tom and Jun. Their romance drama was so pointless and added literally nothing to the story. This is the last season and it's only 6 episodes long. They don't need teen romance side-drama this late into the series, they need to concentrate on what was supposed to be the issue at hand. That, and Jun breaking it off with Tom over him doing the same thing he's always done since Season 1 really shows their compatibility as a romantic duo. But yeah, their whole romance here was just completely pointless and added nothing to the series. Also, Alex and Eugene was also completely unnecessary with what they were trying to build.

Then we have the villains. So Buzzsaw's goons and Linda are the most pointless characters in the villain side of things. The bumbling side kicks to a villain can be charming, but when every villain's group are just kids in adult bodies that still need to be babysat or else they can't do anything right, then it gets annoying and kind of pointless. Linda was probably the worst of them. As for Buzzsaw, his redemption was too much a play off of Dagur and, in my opinion very unnecessary. It felt like they only redeemed him because they didn't need him anymore, but didn't have the time to properly deal with him. As for Sledkin, she was actually a decent villain for what the series was giving, but ultimately fell into the weak trope of "I'm so desperately obsessed over my final goal that I am just throwing self preservation out the window so I can be pointlessly reckless despite being a very intelligent individual" and ended up getting killed over it (which I'm surprised TNR actually had a human death in this).

So let's finally move to my final complaints with this season:

-Thunder being "alpha" is bullshit. There is no way the night lights (yes, even the Elder Night Light) are the "Kings of Dragons" when most dragons didn't give them two glances. So there is no way Thunder is an alpha. I'm sorry, but no. Also, with the Elder Night Light passing, it's nice to see how literally no one cared since Thunder can glow like a radioactive lightbulb now, I guess. They grieved Sledkin more than this dragon. Thunder hardly even cared. Along with the night light thing, Thunder's family is not only useless in the series, but seeing as how we never get a real reason as to why night lights are breeding with each other, I am not convinced that this family line isn't just a messed up family wreath than a family tree at this point. Nothing was explained, so the fans only have the fact that there were only 3 night lights from Toothless (Toothless who was basically never mentioned in this series) and the Light Fury (who wasn't mentioned at all) and no others exist, but we see night lights having kids with each other....I....ew.

-The Raker episode was literally just not necessary and could have been left out altogether and nothing change. This is the last season, we don't need pointless spoilers.

-Olivia was being built as a true character earlier in the series, shame she was basically forgotten about. Same for the other parents.

-The Gods Realm was boring and really uninteresting to look at. Like...it might as well have been any chamber in any cave around the world, not the "Lungs of the Hidden World", which the dragonite still makes no sense and there's no way they would have run out of oxygen in that massive chamber that quickly with the stone removed. None of that made sense.

-There's no way Tom would have ever learned how to communicate with dragons with Valka's staff. I don't know where they got this "Hypnotizing" thing from, but Valka lived alone with dragons for 20 years. She communicated and learned their language that she developed replications of in her own way. Tom cannot learn that in a short montage because Valka's power with dragons came from her connection and understanding from more time of experience with dragons alone than Tom has even been alive for. The staff was a tool, not the power itself. That, and Hiccup would never use his mother's staff. That's A. not his approach to dragons anyway, and B. his mother's. Valka most likely would have had her burial with that staff. Oh, and it's nice to see yet another thing just be casually destroyed and not cared about.

-And I think the last thing I've got for this massive post is the ending. Yes, the dragons leave. What a surprise. This time, the dragons choose to leave and more or less say "Sorry kids, you guys...eh, kinda suck.". The Riders were basically pleading with their dragons (mostly Tom) that there had to be another way and the dragons wouldn't even let them touch them anymore. They acted like they had their fun and it's gone stale so it's time to leave. Great...bond??? Of course, it was over "HOOMANS BAD." so why bother to fix the world when you can just hide in a dead-looking cave system forever? Right? Not only that, but the group itself also split up, expect for Tom and Jun of course, because how else can the series end off with the romance that they pointlessly shoved in.

So yeah, this season was......not good. I really had my hopes out for the series ending much more interestingly, but in the end, with the dragons shoving themselves away again, nothing came from this series other than Tom gets a girlfriend and the group learns the true power of video calls. So in all, I give TNR a personal 5-6/10.

#how to train your dragon #httyd #the nine realms #httyd tnr #tnr salt #//There were some parts that made me laugh and stuff//#//but overall the season was a bust to me//#//and that's sad//

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sassy-ahsoka-tano · 2 years

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ASG - Part Two: Burnin' Love

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: Yeah, by me 💀

Prompt: Elvis sweeps Bird outside to the lake to cool down on a hot day. Spoiler, she doesn't cool off, but it’s not the temperature that has her sweating. [ Fem!OC ]

TW: Nothing tbh? this is vanilla af

Rating: M || Word Count: 4442

A/N: this might be my favorite smut that i've ever written...

This is Part 2 of ASG. Find the rest of the series here!

🦋 mila

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She happens to be passing through the living room when a knock on the door comes. She's suddenly very pleased to be the one who opens it since Elvis is standing on the other side. It's been a week or so since their little walk and they've managed to see each other a couple of times. Mostly, he would walk her home after work. Paranoid that someone would see her and tell her father, Bird hasn't let anything happen that would have been too scandalous. Elvis respects her wishes and she appreciates it.

“Elvis?”

“Hi baby, how ya doin’?” he asks, smiling and stepping inside the house.

She curls her fingers into her palms and then grabs him by the shirt sleeve.

“This a nice house ya got he-”

He cuts off when she harshly drags him into a corner of the room, behind a bookcase.

“Thank you, but I’d appreciate it if ya didn’t alert my daddy your presence,” she responds, glancing out from behind a stack of books to see if her father is anywhere near. When she swivels back around, she jumps back at how close Elvis is to her face.

“Why not, baby girl?”

His arms wind around her waist and start to pull her toward him. She sucks in a breath and clenches her jaw, trying to keep his hands off her.

“Because he’ll probably kill ya,” she responds, glancing around again. “He don't like greasers or singers. Or anyone who ain't a devout Christian.”

“Well good news for ya daddy, I am a devout Christian.”

She raises an eyebrow.

“Not nearly devout enough for my daddy. ”

“Well if we ain’t gonna have any fun in this house, let’s get outta here then,” he says, nuzzling his face into her neck. She stifles a giggle.

“Stop that! What would we even do?” she asks.

“We could go for a walk,” he says, kissing her jaw, “or look at the record store,” he kisses her neck, “I don’t care where we go as long as I’m with you.”

She finally manages to release him from her neck and smile.

“It’s too damn hot for all that,” she replies, feeling a streak of bold lust. “We could go down to the lake? That oughta cool us off.”

“Ain’t nothing in the world that could cool you off, mama.”

“Just go,” she says, flushing. She pushes him toward the door. “Before daddy sees you. Or worse, sees me with you.”

He holds up his hands defensively and walks toward the door. She pauses with her hand on the knob and inhales a sharp breath.

“I’m goin to Bible study with the girls, daddy!” she shouts. “I’ll be back round dinner time.”

And she shuts the door as quickly as she dares. She grabs Elvis’ hand and pulls him along.

“What are we runnin for?” he asks and she can't help but laugh.

“Cause I shouldn’t be doin this!” she shouts back.

The heat is suffocating. Even though it's a short walk, she's sweating profusely by the time they get to the lake. Coming up the hill, she strains to get a glimpse of the chilled water. She knows that even seeing it will make her feel cooler.

“Oh god bless,” she shouts as she finally reaches the top of the hill, where she can overlook the water. Her mouth is practically salivating at the beauty of the cold water blowing in the wind.

“This is gonna feel nicer 'en heaven,” Elvis says, quickly pulling his shirt off.

As he lifts it off his head, she sneakily eyes his torso, taking in its beautiful curves and muscles. Her eyes flick back to the water quickly when his face reappears. She's never seen a man’s torso before. Every man in her life has always been buttoned up to the jaw, or her daddy would have killed them the moment she brought them home. She gasps, throwing her open palm against her forehead.

“Somethin wrong?” Elvis yells from halfway down the hill.

“Elvis, I don’t have a swimsuit,” she shouts back. He laughs and waves his hand dismissively.

“Well, why didn’t ya bring one?”

She pauses for a moment, overcome by what she's done and the situation she's gotten herself into.

“I forgot,” she finally responds.

“Well you’re in luck, baby. You don’t need it. Just get down to ya underwear,” he smirk.

She scoffs, shaking her head, and placing her hands on her hips. She gnaws on her lip nervously as she looks out over the water. The heat is causing her to sweat in places she didn't even know existed. She's been too distracted to notice that Elvis has walked all the way back up to her.

“Lil Birdie, earth’s calling. She wants you back on the planet. And so do I,” Elvis’ voice next to your ear snaps your attention to him.

She smiles at the use of a nickname. She likes it.

“I’m 'ere. Just tryin to decide what to do.”

“I already told ya. Underwear!”

His fingers dance along the hem of your top and you slap his fingers away.

“Elvis Presley, I am not strippin down to my underthings. Especially not in the middle of the woods with you,” she replies, poking his chest with a finger.

“Aw, come on, Lil Birdie. What’s the difference?”

She says nothing, so he starts to stretch his arms out over his head. Her eyes nervously glance between the lake in front of her and his naked skin. She can see the sweat shining on every curve of his body.

“Man is it hot out 'ere,” he says. "Bet that water would feel nice on our bare, hot skin."

He runs his fingers through his hair and lets a few strands fall into his face. His biceps flex when he intertwines his hands behind his head.

She feels frozen. The heat mixes with lust in the air, and she can't breathe. Her heaving chest is the only part of her body she can access at the moment. She doesn't even know what to do with herself. Sure, she's dated boys before, but she's never felt like this. She doesn't even know what these feelings are.

“Aright, fine,” she finally chokes out in a voice much weaker than she anticipates.

She nervously starts to undo the buttons of her white blouse. She feels his eyes on her, watching her fumble with each tiny circle. She finally has them all unbuttoned and gulps before shrugging the blouse off her shoulders and letting it drop into the grass below her. She glances up at him to see Elvis staring at her intently, his eyes dark. She feels like she's about to faint, but she somehow manages to untie the string to her skirt and let it fall alongside her top. She immediately reaches to cover her body with her arms, but he's already walking toward her.

He smiles softly and tilts his head. She knows he's coming in for a kiss, but she's scared. Everything in her body tells her to let him touch her, kiss her, do whatever he wants to her. But her mind is screaming to get out, run away. Escape. Her brain and heart are in an impossible tug-of-war until he reaches out for her cheek. Panic sets in, and she turns and runs for the edge of the cliff.

“Lil Birdie, what the hell you do-”

She misses what he says after that because she's jumped over into the water. As she resurfaces, reveling in the feeling of cold water on her suffering skin, she's mortified. What just happened?

“What in the Sam Hill…” she hears him murmur from above the cliff.

The lake is more of a pond really, not too deep that she can't stand. She pushes herself back against the rocks in the shadows, where he can't see her. She's both embarrassed and angry with herself. She knows she overreacted but she isn't sure how to handle these situations. Her daddy’s face just keeps popping into her mind. She hears a holler and freezes in the shadows before a giant wave of water splashes onto her.

When Elvis' head pops up above the water, he's laughing. She freezes again, wishing she was dead. He swims over to her and props himself up on a rock.

“You’re fuckin crazy, girl. You know that?” he says, breathless.

It's too much for her. The way he looks, how he speaks, his body, it's all too much. The way he said it with such a deep, raspy, labored voice and the fact that he used that word. That swear word she's never heard anyone say in real life, not even her own father.

He sits, staring at her with water droplets gracefully rolling off his skin. The sun on the water reflects in his blue eyes and makes them seem even bluer than possible. His hair is pushed all the way back, curling around his ears. His muscles are taught, holding his weight against the rocks. All of that is distracting, sure, but her eyes can't - for all the money in the world - tear themselves away from his lips. Wet with the water, they are parted and pouted out, waiting for her to say something. Waiting for her to do something.

“Birdie, you aright?” he asks, reaching out for her arm.

She must look quite the picture, sitting there heaving like a caveman with her mouth hanging open. She doesn't respond, the embarrassment increasing. He plops down into the water and grabs her shoulders gently.

“Hey, Bird, are you okay?” he asks, pronouncing every word slowly.

Her gaze has fallen to the water, but he hooks a finger underneath her chin and tilts her face up. Concern is written all over his features. She finally finds her voice, what little she can squeeze out.

“Y-yes, I’m jus fine,” she replies and watches as his shoulders visibly relax.

“Gave me a scare there, Lil Birdie,” he says, letting a smile break.

“Sorry, I…” she trails off, not knowing what to say.

“Damn this water feels good don’t it,” he says, flipping onto his back and floating for a moment. She's still trying to recover from her own lustful panic when he opens an eye and throws her a mischievous smirk.

“What are you thinkin?” she asks, a smile finally spreading across her face.

He looks her up and down for a quick moment and then splashes her with a ton of water. She wipes her eyes down with her mouth open in shock. When she can see him again, holding his stomach with laughter, she laughs herself.

“How dare you!” she yells and splashes him back.

He splashes her again and then grabs her ankle, pulling her toward him. She yelps and screams, fighting him and laughing. He grabs her all over to bring her to him - her hips, her waist, and finally both of her wrists. They both stop to laugh, and when the laughing fades, there they still are. She's helpless in his grasp. He holds firmly, not painfully, just firmly onto her wrists. And he holds them close to his chest. Their bodies are touching, from her hips all the way down to her toes. There's a moment of tense silence, both of them eyeing each other's lips. Something in her face must have changed.

“Y'afraid of me...” he says.

He means it as a question, but it comes out more like a statement. She gulps, searching his eyes, and then shakes her head.

“Good. Cause I ain’t gonna hurt ya. I ain’t even gonna touch ya if you don’t want it,” he says, starting to release her wrists.

Panic sets in again, and she catches one of his retreating hands by the finger. His eyes immediately follow it and he just barely grins. He gently turns her around and folds her arms into his own. She's facing the tiny waterfall draining a thin stream of clear water into the lake. It's incredibly relaxing. Elvis’ soothing embrace also puts her at ease. His thumb rubs her palm sweetly, and she closes her eyes feeling her strength slowly come back.

“Elvis Presley, you are somethin else entirely.”

His head rests on her shoulder, and she can feel his breath on her neck. It tickles, and she only tenses for a moment. But that's long enough. As her muscles flex, so do his. Their bodies press together. And something she's only heard about, never seen, presses itself against her backside. She can't stop her mouth from falling open with a distressed gasp slipping out. All the feelings that are just beginning to fade suddenly return with fire. She feels his fingers brush the hair off her shoulder and he presses a surprisingly chaste kiss to the skin. Her eyes close and her head leans back.

“How you doin, lil mama?” he says in an impossibly low voice and she sucks in another breath. “Is this aright?”

She says nothing but breathes out a quiet moan and grasps his hand tighter. He continues to press soft kisses to her shoulder, neck, and ear. And she continues to wriggle in his strong grasp. He stops by her ear, his cheek pressed against her temple.

“Tell me what ya want,” he mumbles and his voice seems somehow even deeper.

It takes everything in her not to moan out her answer. She knows that if she opens her mouth, all her sins will be released. So she keeps it shut, saying nothing.

“Tell me, mama. I wanna hear you say it to me,” he says again, but she presses her lips closed even tighter.

He laughs breathily in her ear, and his fingers grip her waist, pulling her deeper into his body. When she still doesn't say anything, his hand starts to press lower down her body. She starts to convulse with all the energy trying to keep herself in. The minute his fingers pull on the inside of her thigh, she's done. She loses all control of her body and moans. Loudly. Everything about him is immoral, illegal, sinful. And she wants more than anything to become a criminal, a sinner.

“I want you,” she breathes out and twists around in his arms. “I want all of you right now.”

That's all he needs. He grabs onto her face with both hands, holding her lips to his until she almost can't breathe. His lips move hungrily, lustily, without control all over her. Her fingers get lost in his skin, grasping onto his chest, his back, his hair. Anywhere they can touch each other, they do. He grabs her jaw and moves her head to the side, biting and sucking on her neck. She yelps and moans again, digging her nails into him. He holds out one of his hands and starts to walk her back toward the rocks. She moves wherever he directs her, letting every breath go with a moan attached to it. He gently presses his body against hers on the rocks. It isn't the most comfortable place, but the gentleness with which he guides her and the way he curls his arm around her to protect her from the sharpness of the rocks only makes her want to stay there forever.

He releases her neck and she knows she's marked. But she banishes the thought and grabs his face to kiss him again. His hands slide under her thighs and hoist her up onto his hips. Wrapping her legs around him, she squeezes him and moans at the feeling of him against her. He traces her top lip with his tongue, and she opens wide for him. She doesn't know what she's doing, but it doesn't take long for him to show her what to do. Her jaw starts to ache and she puts a hand on his chest, pushing him back.

“Y'okay, baby girl? Is it too much?”

She laughs and bites her lip.

“No, no, it’s good. I just can’t breathe.”

“Let’s slow down a lil bit. How’s that sound?”

She nods and takes a deep breath. He smiles and slides his hands behind her back to effortlessly unclip her bra. After he's gently pulled the straps from her shoulders, he kisses the naked skin. He leaves her bra on a flat rock near them and looks up at her. He gently cups her breast and glances into her eyes. She nods and runs a hand through his hair. He smirks and goes to work on her but much softer this time around. He gently massages her breasts and peppers them with hot, sticky kisses. He nips at her nipple and she gasps. She doesn't even know they have feeling until then. He can tell that she likes it and buries his face in her chest, licking, biting, and sucking every part of the skin that's there. She leans her head back against the rocks and closes her eyes.

“Oh, Elvis…” she breathes out, and he moans into her nipple.

As he keeps working her breasts, she feels his thumbs fall down to her hips and hook into her underwear. He pauses, waiting for permission and she pushes his hands down, taking her underwear with them. She lifts her foot up to help him, but the panties get tangled in the holes and she stumbles forward. He releases her breast with a chuckle and she smoothes her hair back and laughs. He tries again and manages to get her underwear off, without issue this time, and piles it onto the bra.

“Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable. I don’t wanna knock ya head on no rocks over here,” he says and she nods.

He takes her hand and pulls her across the water to the other side, where there's a small sandbank. He pushes her up onto the bank and climbs on top of her, brushing her hair out of her face. The shallow tide covers her legs like a blanket. She's about to lean up for a kiss when she catches him looking at her intensely. His eyes travel up and down her figure, and he smiles.

“Goddamn,” he says, biting his lip. “I ain’t never seen a body like this before. Why you keepin all this covered up, girl?”

She laughs and thinks of a quick-witted response.

“If I didn’t, boys would be all over me all the time. You don’t want that do you?”

He runs a hand down her naked body and she shudders.

“Hell no, I don’t want that.”

He starts to kiss her neck again and then trails kisses down her stomach. He grabs her back to lift her hips up toward his lips and nips at the bone. She bites her lip and squirms. He props up one of her legs and kisses the inside of it, starting with the knee and trailing down her thigh. Her body takes over, and she reaches down to tangle her hand in his hair. As he gets closer and closer to where she needs him most, she starts to convulse under his touch. He looks up at her through his eyelashes, smirking.

“Do it,” she says without hesitation. “Right now.”

She can tell her commands surprise him, but he wastes no time sliding his tongue into her folds. Her hands fall beside her ears and grasp at the sand she lies on. He makes every shape imaginable around her pussy and she curls her toes to keep from moving too much. Her moans are so loud that anyone within a five-mile radius could hear her but nothing in her cares enough to silence it. Her moans get faster and quieter and her back arches further and further into the air.

Suddenly, nothing. She's throbbing, but there is no stimulation. She's literally writhing around the sand and opens her eyes to see Elvis standing above her, hastily removing his underwear with labored breathing. She pushes herself further up onto the sand, and he kneels between her legs, giving her sloppy kisses all up her stomach and chest. When he returns to her lips, she can taste herself on him. His mouth is warm and wet with her juices, and she wraps her arms around his neck to bring him closer. He snakes an arm under her and repositions his legs so he's gently laying on top of her. His hand slides down her side and presses gently on her stomach, squeezing out another moan. She doesn't know what's happening until his finger is sliding into her. She grasps and grabs onto his shoulder.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks, freezing, eyes going wide.

“No, no,” she smiles. “I jus never know what to expect with you.”

He returns the smile.

“I’ll go slow and give you time,” he says. “You jus tell me when you’re ready for more, Lil Birdie.”

He returns to kissing her and leaves his finger inside her pussy for a few minutes so she can adjust. It doesn't take long, since she's already so hungry for him. She gently bucks her hips and he responds by slowly and steadily pumping in and out of her folds. Her toes curl again, and she grasps onto his hair. Her hips fall into a rhythm with his finger and just when she's starting to feel too much he pulls it out.

“W-what are ya doin??” she asks, and he gives her a grim look.

“Listen, I just wanna explain somethin to ya,” he says, brushing some hair behind her ear. “This is usually the part where…”

“Where what?” she asks, sitting up. “I’m not afraid no more, Elvis. You can tell me.”

He nods and then laughs.

“Well, this is usually the part where I fuck ya brains out,” he says, and she flushes furiously. “But there’s this thing called a condom…”

“Elvis, I know what a condom is,” she says nodding. Her father has refused to give her sex education, but knowing she would be safer with basic knowledge, he has told her a few things.

“Well god forbid you should have sex with anybody but me,” he continues and she giggles nervously, “but you should always use one. It stops the babies from comin. Now I’m not sayin I don’t want a baby with you, cause maybe I will one day. But I don’t wanna ruin our lives right now.”

She nods.

“So Imma finish makin you feel good, and I don’t want you to worry about me, aright? You’re doin plenty for me by bein so goddamn sexy.”

She bites her lip and pulls him down to kiss her. He slides his finger back into her pussy, and she releases a contented breath. She's ready quicker this time and bucks her hips to get him going. After a few minutes of pumping in and out, he adds another finger and then one more. Her moans are back, and they're filling the air, one after the other. Relentless. She can sense her stomach churning, and it feels like she's climbing a mountain of ecstasy. Every step forward is like a wave coming to its peak only to raise even higher above the sea.

“Goddamn, you’re so loose, baby,” he mutters. She doesn't really know what he means but she likes the way he says it, the approval in his voice. His thumb goes to her clit and starts to rub circles on it. She hasn't realized it could get any better and arches her back even more.

“You like that, mama?” she moans louder and he speeds up. “Yeah, I know you like that.”

The next few moments feel like a whirlwind, and she loses track of everything. Her body starts moving in ways she isn't in control of. His hand is upright above her head and she reaches up to grab it. He intertwines his fingers with hers and pins her hand there, stretching her arm out. He kisses her neck again and her eyes flash open. She cries out and convulses, gripping hard into his fingers. She's reached the top of the mountain, and it's more beautiful than anything in the world.

As her orgasm starts to wind down, Elvis removes his fingers and presses his palm against her folds. When she's finally back to normal, her arms go limp and she lies perfectly still like a vegetable. There isn't a word spoken and the air is filled only with her mixing breaths, the sound of the waterfall, and the birds.

“You doin okay, baby?” Elvis asks, reaching for her hand.

He holds it so gently now that she can't have imagined he's capable of grasping it as tightly as he was just a moment ago. She nods, the feeling coming back into her body. A euphoric smile spreads across her face, and she feels more beautiful than ever. If this is what sin feels like, she wants more of it. He brushes some of the sweat-stuck hair from her forehead. After a moment, she speaks up.

“You know my daddy says condoms are the devil at work,” she says, unable to stop the thought from popping out. After a moment of silence, Elvis laughs and laughs. She smiles, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“You know what, Lil Birdie,” he says, leaning over to kiss her forehead, “sometimes I think maybe ya daddy’s the devil.”

“Well that’s cause he is,” she responds and Elvis’ smile grows bigger. “I didn’t know any uh that was possible. It was…”

“Good, I hope?”

“Elvis,” she says, propping herself up on her elbows. “I have never felt like that in my life. I feel like a different person. I ain't afraid. Of nothing, I don’t think. I suddenly wanna try new things, run through the grass with my shoes off, do somethin crazy.”

He laughs, flopping back onto the sand and rubbing her back.

“Don’t worry, Lil Birdie, I’ll show you what real sex is like a different time,” he replies, laying back on the sand.

She leans over to kiss him. He pulls her on top of him and wraps his arms around her back. These kisses are gentle, warm, and maybe even a little bit loving. When she pulls back, they just stare at each other for a minute.

“It’s a date,” she finally agrees, kissing his forehead. “Now, I may feel bolder but I ain't going home without no underwear on. Go fetch my underthings, Presley.”

“I’d worry less about the underwear and more about those marks all over your neck,” he says and her mouth falls open.

“Fuck."

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